The Ribbon: Marcus's Tale
by J. Anne Brown
Summary: Set in Etruria, approximately 1000 BC. Marcus is a young man, in love with his master's daughter, Didyme. When her older brother, Aro, disappears mysteriously, the lives of Marcus and Didyme are changed forever...
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

_**The Ribbon**_

_**Chapter One: The Beginning**_

_**Marcus Speaks:**_

Yes, my friend, come in…Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I know your questions. I don't mind. It's just been so very long since I've told this story, and it isn't an easy one to tell.

In order to tell you about the day I passed into immortality, my young friend, I must tell you something of myself, of my life as it was before. Only then would you be able to truly understand and appreciate the impact of such a transformation.

I was born long ago, in a time when calendars and schedules didn't exist the way they do now. The world wasn't in such a great hurry then. We measured our days by the shadows of the sun and the nights by the position of the moon; we counted our months with the moon and stars, and the years had no numbers: we remembered them by what had happened of particular notice that year, such as a drought or an epidemic or a particularly good harvest. All I know of when I came into the world is that it was springtime. My mother died giving birth to me, and she was buried wearing a crown of freesia and peony, and clutched a bouquet of hyacinth, which they say matched her eyes. That is how I know: for those flowers only bloom in spring.

I was the oldest child of a large, working-class family. My father was a laborer on a nearby noble's estates, but we cultivated our own grapes and olives and even a small field of wheat, the fertile black, volcanic soil of the mountain slope we called home providing us with plenty to eat year-round. He remarried after I was born, which was normal: a wife was essential to maintain the home, and many children were necessary to keep the family business going.

We were Etruscans, and it was, as near as I can divine from research, about 1000 BC. My, how the years have passed.

Etruria was the foundation of what would become the great Roman Empire. It stretched for mile after prosperous mile across the western coast of Italia. My family lived a few leagues from the sea, near the town of Pisa, although it wasn't called that back then, on the gentle slopes of Monte Pisano.

I don't remember many details from my childhood. What I do recall are images, flashes of sensation, faces, voices.

I remember sitting on the mountainside, crook across my knees, herding my father's master's sheep, feeling the cool breeze against my face. I remember sleeping in a messy pile in one big bed with all my brothers and sisters, arms and legs entwined like a litter of puppies. I remember working hard, and playing hard. That was the way back then, children working as hard as adults, making time to play when they might. But it was a good childhood, I suppose. My father didn't beat me, and we always had enough to eat. Many children can't say that. I do remember that I was content.

And I remember Didyme. But I will come to her in a bit.

As I said, my father was a laborer for a local noble, a high-class merchant who traded in the lovely bronze and brass sculptures and vases and ewers that Etruscans have been famous for producing for thousands of years; he also traded in marble and ivory and other luxuries. His name was Cestus, his family name was Donati, and he and his wife, Lucretia, had seven children. They had a beautiful villa on the slopes of Monte Pisano, which bordered our own little humble plot of land. Their villa was surrounded by vineyards and olive groves and apple orchards, and they had stables full of cattle and horses and barns full of pigs and chickens. They had true prosperity, and my family was quite lucky to serve them, for we never lacked either. The Donati were good masters.

As I mentioned, Cestus and Lucretia had seven children. The oldest, the son of Cestus and his first wife (who had died in childbirth like my own mother had), was a serious, pale boy named Aro. He was a bit older than myself, and he was sent away to school in Rome when he was about thirteen, so I didn't see him much until he returned years later, a man grown. I don't remember any of the other children's names… except for Didyme.

She was the only girl, a rose blooming in a wheatfield. She was younger than I by two years, but it didn't matter. She was lovely, smart as a whip, and she loved me. She was my friend. She was my heart, from the first moment I saw her. And I, for some unfathomable reason, was hers.

People gravitated toward Didyme, like bees to fragrant flowers. She had something inside her that drew admirers of all kind; it was impossible not to love her. If she wanted it, it was done. Somehow she managed to not end up a spoiled child; instead, she turned out as the most unselfish and loving of women. Her father, normally a very stern man, couldn't refuse her anything she asked—even when she asked him to let our friendship continue and develop, when any sane father would have stopped it right away, maybe even sent my entire family away to prevent our love from blossoming further.

You see, back then, marriages were made by families for the sake of the _family_'s best interests: love didn't play a part in it. Often girls were betrothed to much older men when they were but babies, and often they wouldn't see the man they married until their wedding day, when their crimson _flammeum_ veil was lifted to reveal their face to their new husband for the first time. Surely, given his only daughter's beauty and intelligence and obvious worthiness as a commodity, she would have made a fine alliance with some very high-placed man…But Didyme wouldn't have it. She only wanted me.

I never understood why she loved me, the son of a poor man. Not even particularly handsome. But she did, and it was the greatest treasure of my life, to have that laughing, lovely being at my side.

It had started early, when we were children, her barely eleven, me almost fourteen.

"Come on, Marcus, the apples are ripe on that tree in the north orchard!" she had whispered to me on glorious late summer morning, grabbing at my hand under the table at breakfast. I always stayed with the master's family during the week, to be available to help her father in the mornings. And Didyme always came down to break her fast with me, that morning unleavened bread and soft white goat cheese with fresh milk. "If we hurry, we can get the best ones first!" Her grin was sparkling, her dark brown eyes dancing with mischief. Hopelessly beautiful, even as a child.

I stared at her, torn. I was supposed to help my father tie up the new grapevines in the southern vineyard. If I missed, I was surely to be punished. My eyes must have said such; she wrinkled her nose and shook her head fiercely, golden curls casting fire everywhere in the morning sunlight.

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Marcus! I'll talk to Papa, you won't get punished!"

I sighed. I was lost. Apples it was. And probably a whipping as well.

But it had been worth it. I treasured every moment of that stolen day, hidden up in the boughs of the apple tree. We laughed and talked all day, stuffing ourselves with apples til our stomachs hurt. And no whipping in the world could ever take away the burning lingering on my lips from the first kiss Didyme ever gave me, there in the apple tree.

"Promise me, Marcus," she'd said, seriously, her dark eyes holding mine as she drew her face back from mine. I simply stared at her, wordless: I'd never been kissed before, although I had often guiltily daydreamed of kissing her. It seemed an unimaginable twist of fate that it had happened, that it had been her idea to kiss _me_! She reached up and pulled a red ribbon from one of her braids, and looped it around my wrist a few times, tying it tight. "Promise me, you're mine. Always mine."

Did she even have to ask?

That ribbon, weightless as it was around my wrist, was the gravity that held the planet of my soul in orbit around the sun of her existence. I never took that ribbon off. It rotted away on my wrist years later, never to be replaced, for by then she was gone, and I was alone. And directionless, drifting in the fog and emptiness left by the departure of her sun.

The years passed and we both grew. I matured into a young man, and came to take my father's place as Lord Donati's right-hand man. Lord Donati valued my opinion. He often told me I had an odd gift for being able to discern the worth of those around me, and how well people might work together. It was a good gift for a man in charge of workers to have, he told me. How ironic, that that odd gift served me in such different ways, later.

And Didyme…she matured as well, into a willow-slim young woman, her skin like the silvery moon, her golden curls reaching her tiny waist. Her laughter was like silver bells, and her deep brown eyes, so full of wisdom and joy, only saw mine. She was my personal miracle. My mind was boggled by her devotion. No matter how many well-set young men came seeking her hand, begging her father for a chance to court her, he always refused. Lord Donati was helpless as a kitten against Didyme's desires, he could refuse her nothing she asked with sincerity. And all she asked for was me.

When she was fifteen she was finally judged old enough to marry. Yes, I know it is young now, but back then, it was plenty old enough to marry. People died much younger then, anyway. The years we waited seemed endless to us both. Her father promised a good dowry, enough to set us up a nice farm of our own, but I had no desire yet to leave their estate in just anyone else's hands. I had to train my successor, a man I had hand-picked, who seemed intelligent and capable. Didyme and I set our wedding for the autumn, and she passed her time with her mother and serving girls, laughing and chattering as they sewed her gowns and linens and all the things she would need to start a home with me. And her bright crimson _flammeum_, her wedding veil. She'd wait for me, wearing that veil, at the altar, and our life together would begin when I lifted it to see her face—the face of my wife. She and I. She would always be with me.

With me. With _me! _I walked on air.

Then, one day that summer, when the wheat was waving golden and heavy in the fields, when the orchards and vineyards were beginning to burgeon with ripening fruit, Aro came home.

He'd gone away as a pasty-faced, rather timid boy, and came home a young man possessed of a fine, intelligent mind and a strong determination to make something of himself. As was the custom, he'd been sent to live with relatives in Rome, where he was educated by the finest Greek slaves in all the correct subjects. Aro could discourse on history and science and mathematics, could lecture on military tactics and recite poetry and the famous orations by heart. He seemed very sure of himself, although I perceived that beneath the polished exterior was the heart of a manipulative coward.

He immediately found out about Didyme and myself, and he wasn't very pleased. "My sister, I should think, could do much better than you, Marcus Domitius," he told me flatly one afternoon, eyeing me critically. He had sought me out, coming all the way out to the southern wheat field to find me, where I'd been directing the slaves in the reaping.

Beneath his critical eye, I felt every stain on my clothing, every unshaved whisker on my cheeks. For the first time in my life, I felt small. I had nothing to say. He was right, after all. Why would this shining goddess, this golden nymph, ever want me? I shook my head and refused to meet his eye.

Aro cleared his throat distastefully. "But no one could ever change her mind, though, could they, Marcus?" He sighed. "Not even our father. He's a useless fool before that girl." His lips twisted in a grimace. "Lucky for you both that Father didn't die and leave me in charge. She'd have been sent away to be a Vestal Virgin long before I allowed her to marry a commoner like yourself." Then he chuckled ruefully. "But then again…perhaps not. Even _I_ can hardly say no to her."

I smiled to myself. How right he was. Even Aro had a hard time telling Didyme no. Everyone did. Everyone loved her.

"Well, whatever happens, Marcus, you must never mistreat my sister. She is the best of us all, you know." He looped his thumbs into his woven belt and rocked back on his heels, scrutinizing me. "Do something with yourself. At least try to be worthy of her."

He didn't have to tell me anything. I knew, intimately, that she was the most wonderful thing in the world. I would rather gouge out my own eyes than hurt her. And regardless of his perception of me, _she_ saw something worthy in me, and always had. Since she was so very perceptive and wise beyond her years, it had to mean I did indeed possess something notable.

Finally I met his eye then, pulling myself up to my full height. We were about the same in build now, surprisingly; in fact, if you excused his scholarly pallor, we could almost be brothers, we looked so much alike. We both had the same standard Etruscan features, the same long, black hair.

Aro must have realized it too and cocked one eyebrow in surprise.

"Don't worry, Aro," I replied quietly. "Didyme will never pass one unhappy moment with me, if I have to die trying to make it so."

He nodded curtly and left without another word, his red clock vivid against the summer wheat as it billowed in the wind, and I was relieved. I sought Didyme out, wanting to see her face, to hear her voice. I found her in the garden, weaving a crown of daisies.

She looked up, a wide smile parting her pink lips, showing her white teeth. She looked like a statue of a goddess, standing there among the flowers, caught in a sunbeam, her linen gown pale against her golden skin. Her feet were bare, her hair unbound and cascading down her back, golden as the summer wheat. I stood in the gate watching her for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her.

Then she saw me. "Marcus!" she cried, and leaped into my arms, not caring that I was dirty and sweaty from work. She pulled back and looked up at me, grinning impishly, dropping her daisy crown on top of my head. "King Marcus, lord of my heart!" She giggled, and the sound was like the beating of my heart. "Kiss me, my king!" she crowed, and without waiting grabbed each of my ears and pulled my face to hers. I didn't resist. Who would have?

As always, when we were together, time seemed to alter: every moment like a thousand years, yet never enough time to be together.

Aro disappeared the next day.

When he rode out to hunt with his guards at dawn, no one thought much of it. It was common enough, Aro was a good hunter, and his men were well-armed. There had been peace in our part of the country for quite some time, so apart from occasional bands of roving bandits there was little to fear. The woods at the base of Monte Pisano were well-stocked with deer, hare, wild boar, and even occasionally a bear.

When he didn't return that night, or the next day, the family began to worry. Lord Donati sought me out in the early afternoon of the third day, his face dark and lined with concern.

"Marcus, my son, would you please take a search party out and look for Aro?" He wrung his hands. "I am sure he is fine, but the fact that his men haven't returned either is…worrisome."

I put one hand on Cestus's shoulder reassuringly. "Of course, my Lord. I shall leave immediately."

I gathered up a few men and we rode out into the forest, in the direction that Aro had been seen heading in last.

It was a beautiful day, the sky bright blue and cloudless, hot, with insects buzzing and birds calling all around us. The forest was cool, the green-leaved branches blocking out most of the sunlight, casting the leafy forest floor into dappled shadows. We rode quickly, keeping our eyes open for signs of passage.

We found what we were seeking much sooner than I ever would have imagined.

It was barely five miles in when we found the remains of Aro's men and their horses. They had all been piled together into a gruesome heap, as if flung there by a giant. There was blood everywhere, staining the ground black, spattered on the tree trunks. Flies buzzed fiercely around the fallen, torn bodies of the men and horses, settling on the clots of gore.

I had to turn my face from the carnage; I heard the man behind me leap down from his saddle and stagger into the bushes, where he lost his breakfast. I had to swallow hard against the urge myself, struggling not to inhale the stench of death which permeated everything. The afternoon suddenly was so much darker and sinister, the shadows no longer welcome shade but oppressive dimness.

Steeling myself against the sight of the blood, I slid down from my horse and want over to the bodies. I had to find out whether Aro was there in the tangle of dead men and animals. How could I tell that to my master, to Didyme, that Aro was dead? But what if his body wasn't there…where could he be? I had an odd premonition; a shiver ran down my spine, full of foreboding.

But Aro wasn't there. The horses had been butchered, their throats slashed too, but strangely, the only blood seemed to be theirs; it was as if the men had been drained, their bodies flat white and bloodless… Their throats had been torn open, the expressions on their still white faces horrified, as if in their last moments they had seen something unutterably awful. And as for the identities of the men, there were just the bodies of his men-at-arms: Aro was not among them.

"Great Zeus, what has done this!" one of my men muttered, making the sign against the Evil Eye, glancing around at the leaf-covered ground. "No marks from weapons except the throats, no arrows or anything…No animal prints or tooth marks, so it couldn't have been wolves…"

I shook my head, confused, fear prickling down my spine. I felt as if unseen eyes were watching us from the bushes; all the hair stood up on the back of my neck, my nerves jangling and overly sensitive. Fighting back my fear, I paced the entire area, searching for signs of Aro having gotten away from whatever had ambushed the party. But I did not find any other tracks…It was as if whatever had attacked the men had simply dropped onto them from above, and taken Aro when they vanished again the way they had come: into thin air.

It was strange. And very, very frightening. I had never seen anything like it before, not even when wolves had attacked the flocks and made off with several lambs…not even when a child had fallen prey to the same wolves a week later…Not when I'd witness the executions at the local magistrates…Nothing like this. The drained, white bodies of the men, the casual way the horses had been slaughtered, the way the bodies had been so casually piled atop one another, with no drag marks or signs of struggle…Something supernatural was afoot. I made my own sign against the Evil Eye and mounted my horse again, motioning for the men to do the same.

"We must get back to the estate and tell Lord Donati," I said heavily. "Tell him what has happened here…and send men back to bear these men's bodies home to be buried." I winced at the thought of having to tell their wives and children that their fathers wouldn't be returning home ever again. Some of them were my family's neighbors, and I had known them since childhood.

That night the atmosphere in the beautiful villa on the side of Monte Pisano was heavy, full of sorrow. I ate with the servants, as Cestus and Lucratia had not wanted to leave their rooms, grieving for their lost son. Even Didyme was closed up in her chambers, her sobs wrenching my heart through the closed door.

Earlier, upon returning to the villa, I had told my master what I had seen in as clear and unemotional terms as I could manage. He had listened carefully, his face growing more and more grim, until I had finished.

"So…the horses and the men were…dead…" he had murmured softly, taking a deep breath, his eyes far away, not seeing me at all. I nodded. "But…my…son, Aro…he was not…there?" Again, I nodded. Hope bloomed in his haggard face. "Then, perhaps, he managed to escape whatever it was…" His fists clenched in the folds of his toga, the knuckles white with strain.

I stopped him, gently. I couldn't allow the man to delude himself with high expectations. The chances of Aro still being alive were slim. "My Lord, there were no tracks of any kind leading away. If Lord Aro had managed to escape, he would have left some kind of sign, especially if he were…er, hurt." Cestus cringed at the idea, his face grey. I hurried to reassure him however I could. "But tomorrow, at first light, I shall take another party out, with my best dogs and trackers, and we shall find your son. I promise, my Lord. I will do my best."

He had stared at me with empty eyes and nodded back silently, then sat down heavily in an ornately carved chair by the window of his study. The view from that window was spectacular, encompassing the whole slope of the mountain, all his fields and orchards and vineyards, leading down to the dark forest below. The sun had been setting, the sky streaked with vivid reds and oranges and yellows, deepening to purples and blues and grays in the east. The light from the sunset reflected on his tired old face, catching the unshed tears gleaming in his eyes.

"Yes, Marcus, my boy, do your best." His voice was hardly audible.

I fled before the strength of his grief…but I still had to tell Didyme.

She had been lying across her bed, staring out the window at the same sunset that her father had been contemplating. The eternal aura of happiness that normally surrounded her was muted; she wasn't smiling, her palely beautiful face was drawn with worry and fear, like her father's had been. Although she and Aro weren't as close as brothers and sisters could be, she still loved him. When I opened her door she sat up immediately, her eyes wide with hope.

"What news of my brother, Marcus?" she cried, bolting from the bed to throw herself into my arms.

As always, when I held her, I marveled at her: her tiny body pressed against mine in total abandon, the sweet smell of roses and jasmine in her golden hair, the unimaginable way she loved me. But now I knew I had to hurt her.

I told her, in as gentle a way as I could, what I had told her father. She wasn't a stupid girl; indeed, she was very perceptive, and despised being patronized to or lied to. Very early on in our relationship she had made me promise solemnly never to lie to her, or to minimize things. So I did as she asked: I told her the truth, including my belief that Aro was dead. When I had finished, her breathing was coming in rapid little gasps, catching in her throat, the beginning of sobs, and she was blinking frantically to keep the tears from coming. I wrapped my arms around her closely, trying to hold her to me as tightly as possible, trying to keep away the sadness.

"Oh, Marcus, what will happen now?" she moaned into my chest, and her tears wet my tunic. "He _must_ be dead, surely you would have seen some sign if he were alive…" she trailed off, sobbing, unintelligible.

I had no answer. I just held her and comforted her til the tears ended and she pushed away a little. Didyme looked up at me sadly, her pale little face streaked with drying tears; I caught one on my fingertip and put it to my tongue, tasting the salt there. She smiled weakly and patted my chest.

"Well, my husband to be, you need to get things put to bed around here, I suppose my father is useless right now…" She was trying to be brave. I didn't want to leave her, but I knew I must. That foreboding feeling I had first felt in the woods that afternoon had been intensifying since; I felt the need to check the gates and double the guard, post more sentinels…Something bad was coming.

"I will come back…later, if you want…" I said quietly, caught by her deep, deep eyes. She smiled crookedly and winked.

"Of course," she breathed, and stood up on tiptoe, face upturned like a child, waiting to be kissed. "I'll be waiting, my Marcus…" Her fingers tightened on my tunic and pulled me down to her, and for a long, timeless moment I was able to lose myself in her, and she in me.

But when I eventually had to pull away and leave her, as I closed her door behind me, I heard her begin crying again.

The evening passed quickly. I posted extra guards at the villa gates and along the fence lines, armed guards with torches and horns, prepared to give warning if anything strange happened. I had others patrol the fences with dogs, hoping that the animals might notice something human eyes might miss in the dark. The images of those bloodless dead men hovered behind my eyelids, refusing to leave me. How strange…where had the blood gone? Had something…someone…drank it?

Night fell, dark and smothering. It was a moonless night, and clouds had rolled in, covering the stars with a stifling blanket; no wind rose to bring any relief. The flies and mosquitoes continued to buzz, and the only sounds I could hear outside were the insects. Nothing untoward, nothing strange.

I kept watch as well, standing guard by the front gate with the men for a while, until shortly before midnight. Then the memory of Didyme and her promise, to wait for me this evening, lured me away, back up the hill to the house. I felt I should check on her.

As I walked the short half-mile path from the front gate to the main house, I felt the night around me change.

Before, I could hear the insects and occasionally a night bird; but now, suddenly, everything was still, silent…oppressive. Frightened. As if everything around me were holding its breath in dread. I quickened my footsteps, my hand going automatically to the dagger at my belt, my stomach twisting in knots inside me.

_Foolish, you're just being foolish and superstitious, Marcus!_ I chided myself, even as I quickened my pace again, almost running. The lights from the villa swam into view, and I broke into a full-out run in my relief.

The house was quiet, too. All the servants had gone to bed, and they had put out most of the lights, except for an oil lamp waiting for me in the atrium. I picked it up and closed the door behind me, and started through the house, toward Didyme's room.

The silence seemed to deepen and thicken as I went, until the air seemed so heavy it almost felt solid. I felt as if I were struggling through liquid, as if something were holding me back from reaching Didyme's room. My heart pounded within me, sweat breaking out on my forehead and all over my body, cold with fear.

Finally I reached her door, and went to open it. But something stopped me. I froze, hand outstretched.

A sound. From within.

It was…odd. Like a gasp, someone struggling for air. Then a chuckle, low and sinister.

Horror broke through my paralysis; I flung open the door, roaring in rage and challenge, the oil lamp flying to the floor and spilling onto the tiles, the flames put out on the cold stone. I paid it no mind.

I was focused entirely on what I saw there. _Who_ I saw. My mind reeled.

Aro was there, standing in the middle of the room. He was deathly pale, his long dark hair unbound and tangled about his shoulders, his tunic and cloak were torn and bloodstained…and then I saw his eyes.

They were red. Blood red. And blood stained his lips, trickled down his chin, over his chest.

"What in the name of all the Gods!" I gasped, stepping back in shock and amazement.

Aro no longer looked human.

He turned his fiery red eyes on me and grinned. "Well, Marcus Domitius, how good of you to join us!" he murmured, and his voice was…different. Musical. Alluring.

Then I saw Didyme.

She lay crumpled at Aro's feet, an inconsequential pile of pale green fabric and tumbled golden curls, unmoving.

"Didyme!" I screamed, and lunged for her. Was she dead?

Aro stopped me, quick as a snake, snagging my arms and holding me back as easily as if I were a tiny child. I struggled against his grip, my mind reeling but still conscious enough to realize how _cold_ his hands were, how hard his fingers were, like stone, binding me. How had he crossed the room so fast?

"Ah ah, no, my friend, you must leave her be," Aro said softly, mockingly. "She's alive…or, she will be again, soon. Just give it time."

And then Didyme shrieked. Her voice, her sweet voice, normally so gay and happy, was twisted and shattered with pain, with agony. I had never heard that before.

She moved, pulling herself up onto her knees, and she reached out an imploring hand to me. "Help me, Marcus! Help me, it hurts!" she cried, her hands at her neck, clawing.

My knees would have given out, had Aro not been holding me upright. He laughed. I turned to him, my eyes wide with rage and fear. "What have you done, Aro, what are you?"

He set me down as gently as if I were a kitten, next to my Didyme; she whimpered and curled up next to me, laying her face on my knees, every now and then a cry escaping her lips. "Oh, Marcus, it burns, it burns!" she cried softly, and her tears once again wet my clothes as I held her close, trying to comfort her again.

"What have I done?" Aro repeated, smiling. "What am I?" He chuckled. "Well, my friend, you shall see soon enough, for my sister, your lover, will soon be like me as well."

I shook my head in amazement, not understanding. "What happened to you, in the forest? We have been looking for you…we found the men and the horses…" I stared up at him. "We thought you were dead!"

Aro rubbed his strangely cold, stony hands together in anticipation. "I won't tire you with the details, my dear Marcus, but let's just say that I had an…encounter. And encounter with immortality." His crimson eyes widened in glee, fastening on me. "I have found the answer to all that I desire, Marcus, and you and Didyme will help me get it all, won't you?"

My mouth fell open, but words escaped me for a moment. Didyme shrieked again, her hands clawing at me, spasming with pain; I patted her head, feeling useless. "What do you mean?" I whispered, anguished, looking down at her and then at him.

He sighed, then suddenly he was there, right next to me. I hadn't even seen him move, he was so fast. He knelt next to me, and he took my free hand in his. I shivered at the chill of his touch.

"Marcus, I can hear your mind now, I hear every thought you ever had," he said softly, looking deep into my eyes. My mind whirled. "I know how much you love my sister, and how you love my family…and I also know how talented you are, the gifts that lie hidden within you…just as they lie within my sister." He glanced down at her, shaking his head in disappointment. "But she won't turn out as I thought she might…But _you_, Marcus, you could truly help me…."

I shook my head again. I still didn't understand. But he heard my thoughts, and he smiled. "Just let me…help you. Make you like myself, like your dear Didyme. Then it will all make sense."

I looked at him again, at the white, cold, hard skin, the blazing red eyes…the blood staining his face, his clothes. And I knew I didn't want to be like that.

His expression turned mocking, disgusted. "What's so wonderful about being mortal, Marcus? Eventually you will grow old and die, and nothing of you will remain, you will have accomplished nothing. I can offer you more than that." He straightened, looking off into the inky darkness beyond the window in Didyme's room. "And anyway, you couldn't be with Didyme anymore, after she's…like myself. Which is what is happening now, my dear Marcus."

I looked down at Didyme, wondering if it were true. But it had to be true. What other explanation could there be, for what was happening? I had seen the healing marks at her neck, the smears of blood there…was the blood staining Aro from his sister? Cold fear washed through me, paralyzing me once again. I would lose her.

I could not lose her. Ever.

I looked down at the ribbon around my wrist, the ribbon that bound me to her forever. Could I follow her to where she was going now?

Aro nodded, watching me carefully. "Yes, Marcus, when she finished this transformation she won't look at you like her lover…she will look upon you as her favorite meal. And there's nothing I can do to stop it, you see, the bloodlust is quite strong." He exhaled with a shudder, his eyes wide. "It's very difficult for me to withstand the urge to kill you right now, my friend, and drink your exceptionally sweet-smelling blood. But I must abstain…unless you say no to my proposal." His grin was humorless and chilled my blood.

I felt as if my world were crumbling around me, every point, every thing that I had ever taken for granted as being good and solid and real in my life was being taken away, ripped from my hands…My sweet Didyme shuddering against me, her sobs wracking her frail body, the venom burning its way through her…would she truly lust for my blood? Would she become a monster, like her brother had obviously become?

Aro watched us both with covetous eyes, waiting for my decision.

For a long moment I thought. What would my life be, without the sunshine and air and rain that my Didyme was to me? Would I be able to live, without her, knowing she was forever denied to me, that she was foreign and untouchable?

Would I be able to live that kind of life, become immortal as Aro had said? What would it require from me? Could I be that kind of being, could I thirst for the blood of others? But would it matter, if I had no choice, if it was what my body demanded?

You must understand, my friend, that three thousand years ago, the supernatural was as close as your own skin; we lived among our gods, among the ghosts and the demons and the strange, it was common and accepted. But to become part of it? Could I do that?

I looked down at Didyme's pale face, her dark eyes closed in pain. I stroked her bright hair, tumbling over my knees. I looked down at my wrist, where her ribbon still twined around my wrist, a bit worn with the years, but still binding me to her, eternally.

Yes, yes I could do that. For her.

Aro must have seen the decision on my face, for he smiled brightly, showing razor-sharp teeth that gleamed in the lamplight. "Excellent!" he whispered, rubbing his palms together in excitement. He drifted closer to me, so graceful, so alien, his bright red eyes shining.

"Now, my friend, this will hurt…But I promise, it will be worth it…"

And so it began.

When I awoke from the burning I found my beautiful Didyme even more beautiful than she had been before, and I found that our love had changed, metamorphosed, transformed into something so much more terrible and profound and eternal than our shy, passionate, breakable human love had been. She and I were strong together, and nothing could tear us apart.

So I thought. I would learn of the ultimate betrayal and pain soon enough. Too soon.

Oh, my friend, please, please, I have spoken enough for now…It pains me so, to think of her…please, go and leave me in peace. For a while. Perhaps I will tell you another tale, another time. Leave me to my silence.


	2. Chapter 2: Stolen Innocence

**Chapter 2: Stolen Innocence**

What shall I tell you of next, my young friend? What would you like to hear about?

My, I haven't spoken aloud this much in years.

Of course, I haven't had much that I wanted to say. Aro and Caius speak quite enough; it allows me the liberty of remaining quiet, which suits me perfectly. Most of the time I am content to allow them to take the lead, but occasionally I must open my mouth, make my opinions known to others besides Aro in my thoughts. He is often prone to "selective memory," and also…Well, also, sometimes I just do not agree with them.

Oh, you want to hear about Caius? Yes. What an interesting story that is. And also very sad.

Most people judge Caius very severely; they only pay attention to what they can see and hear from him…which, granted, is quite…_off-putting _at times. Yes. "Off-putting" is the best way to express something so complex: he does not let people close to him, he projects a deliberately prickly and cantankerous mien, he seems perfectly content to be deemed the angry and bitter one. Of course, he really _is_ the angry and bitter one—but there is a reason for that. A very good reason. And also, as is so often true, beneath such a rough and unwelcoming exterior lies a very vulnerable and sensitive core. But Caius would rather be torn to bits and set afire than admit such vulnerability even to himself, much less to others.

But I'll tell you, my friend. I'll tell you his story. I know you can keep a secret.

And perhaps it might help others to be a bit more understanding about him, if you do happen to be…indiscreet? If you let the secret slip? Good.

Where to begin? Well, let's see. I must go back a bit, to the time after my transformation. Please be patient, we shall get to the meat of the matter soon enough.

After Aro had bitten me, beginning my journey into the living hell that is the transformation from mortal to immortal, he took Didyme and myself away, out into the night. No one saw us leave; I marveled at how fast and strong and silent Aro was, and at how thrilled he was with his new state of being. I hoped I would be the same, that I wouldn't regret my decision to follow my poor Didyme into the night of her unwilling change.

He took us deep into the forest, far away from the villa and any other human dwellings. I wondered why, at first…Then the burning began in earnest, in both of us, and my unasked question was answered. The screaming would have drawn too much attention; we had to be far from human ears, until it was over.

Didyme was the first to emerge, but not by much. We had been lying on the ground, each of us curled up into our own personal agony, but even amidst the searing pain I could feel my awareness, my capacity to think and feel, expand exponentially. I knew she lay only a few feet away; I heard her labored breathing and her rapidly accelerating and tortured heartbeat as if they were my own, and I grieved for her pain, even in the grips of my own.

I heard that final, agonizing, thundering flurry of heartbeats as the venom warred with her heart, and her screams, peaking; then the wondrous gasp at her first sight of the world around her with her new eyes. I fought back my own pain and opened my eyes to watch her, eager to see her again, to see what she had become.

Where before my Didyme had been _like_ the sun in my life…now she was the sun _itself_, it seemed. She glowed.

She stood, arms outstretched before her, marveling at her own hands, which sparkled like diamonds in the afternoon light. Her eyes, before a deep brown, were now a fiery crimson that should have seemed frightening to me, but instead seemed…right. Her face, always lovely, was so unutterably beautiful to me in its perfection that it hurt to look at her, as if I were staring into the sun.

Then she laughed, and the sound was like the rippling of lyre strings, crystalline and liquid at the same time, and it pierced me even in my pain. I felt my own heartbeat speeding up within my chest, felt the gathering-in of my blood as the venom beat it back, consuming the last vestiges of my mortality. I gasped in pain, unable to keep it back.

She turned to look down at me, so quickly, impossibly fast, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Marcus!" she whispered, and then was beside me, her fingers silken and warm against my face as she stroked my cheek; I knew her touch should have been icy-cold and hard, like Aro's had been…but she felt just as soft and warm to me as she had been days before, fully human…except that her skin was now infinitely smoother than the finest silk. I groaned at her touch, which lit a fire within me like nothing I had ever experienced, warring with the pain. She smiled down at me, and her brilliance was blinding. I had to close my eyes against her, against the pain inside me.

"Don't worry, love, it won't be long now, I think…" she said, and took my hand. She waited there with me until it was over. When I opened my eyes again in the thunderous silence of my stilled heart, her eyes were the first thing I saw, and her smile.

I felt as if I had awakened in Heaven. Or, as I knew it then, in the Elysian Fields, where all the good and honorable dead go, to rest and be at peace.

Then the thirst hit me, and I knew that Heaven and Hell went hand-in-hand in that new existence.

"Well, brother and sister, welcome to immortality!"

Aro's voice startled us; we looked up at him, where he stood a few feet away, grinning, arms outstretched as if to embrace us. I was amazed again at the changes in him; he was like a god to me, even more perfect to my new eyes than my human ones had been able to process. I wondered if I looked like him. We had closely resembled each other before, perhaps that resemblance had endured. I could always hope; he was quite stunning in his own way.

Yes, we were beautiful then, before the differences in our exteriors that you see now appeared. I will tell you about that another time, my inquisitive young friend.

Didyme smiled weakly. "Well, Aro, you have us; so what are you going to do with us?" she asked, her hand squeezing mine fiercely. I knew she was afraid, but that she didn't want to show it. I squeezed back. I would do anything I had to do to keep her from needing to be afraid. I knew I was powerful now; I could feel the unimaginable strength pulsing through my body.

And then I noticed something.

Stretching between Aro and Didyme, like a ghostly tendril of fog, was…_something_. I knew immediately that no one else could see it, for some reason only I could. The tether that bound them to each other was transparent, almost nonexistent, easily broken. I felt it in my gut, knew what it meant: that wispy tie between them was the bond they shared with each other, the love they held for each other as brother and sister. I had always known they weren't close, but it still startled me, the lack of intensity between them. Out of curiosity I glanced down at Didyme and myself, at our linked hands.

The bond between us was solid, glowing, almost blinding in its intensity. I didn't think anything could shatter it. Nothing was that strong, that sharp, to sever it. I smiled in satisfaction: no one would ever tear us apart, no one could ever come between us, and we were both so strong that there was nothing we couldn't overcome together.

How very wrong I was.

Aro crossed over to us, still smiling widely. He reached out and touched Didyme's hair; she leaned away a bit, turning her face slightly from him, as if repulsed. Irritation flickered across his face so rapidly I almost believed I didn't see it, he hid it so fast and so successfully.

"Ah, sister, I have such plans for us! Such plans!" His voice was triumphant; he clapped my shoulder in a comradely fashion, nodding at me, grinning, his eyes wide and eager and inquisitive as they studied my face. "But I still have much to learn, so many things to do…" He trailed off, staring into the distance, his eyes glowing, his face intense, as if he was listening to something.

Then I felt it: Aro rifling through my head, through all my thoughts and memories. I remembered what he had said days earlier, in Didyme's room, that he could hear our thoughts. But only when he touched me, I realized. I jerked my shoulder away from him; I didn't like the feeling of him trespassing inside my mind.

That time the irritation lingered on his face, his eyes locked on mine. I realized then that Aro, who had been an ambitious mortal man, was an even more ambitious immortal one. The word "vampire" wasn't known back then; it came much later. He disliked being contested. And he desperately wanted to have as much information as possible, including the contents of our minds.

"I understand your power, Aro, but please, refrain from intruding into my thoughts unless there is a need," I said flatly.

He gritted his teeth, still staring at me; I could fairly hear his thoughts churning as he decided what to do. But he finally nodded curtly and looked away. I had won the first round.

How I have so often wished that I had just let him win a bit more often, back in those early days. Perhaps things would have been different…

Aro rubbed his palms together briskly. "So, we should probably look into getting something to slake that damnable thirst, eh, my dears?"

My hand inadvertently went to my throat, which felt as if it were on fire. Literally. I glanced over at Didyme and saw she had done the same; we smiled at each other in sympathetic understanding. It took a moment for me to be able to tear my eyes from hers.

Even though I had a vague, uneasy feeling I knew what his answer would be, I asked Aro what must be done to quench the demonic thirst.

He cocked one eyebrow at me and smiled tightly. "Well, brother, come along and see," he finally replied, motioning for Didyme and I to follow him into the forest.

That was when I discovered the pure joy that it is to run as an immortal. It was like flying. Every detail of every tree and blade of grass was exquisitely detailed, yet I was passing by them so swiftly that I am sure an onlooker would have only seen a blur. I felt no strain in my lungs as we pushed ourselves to a blinding pace; my body responded smoothly and effortlessly. I laughed in amazement at the sensation, and the laughter was echoed by Didyme, who was right next to me, keeping up with me with no effort, graceful as a gazelle.

We ran for a few minutes, covering a good distance. Before I knew it, we were all the way to Siena, over fifty miles by modern standards of measurement. Siena was a new city then, only a bit over as hundred years old, a walled hill town like Pisa and Volterra, its buildings built form the local sandy brown stone. The wall surrounding it was broken in a few places by gates, the tops patrolled by armed guards. There had been many waves of roving bandits and barbarians in that area, so the people were suspicious and on the defensive, I had heard.

The three of us crouched in the forest, looking up at the town from the cover of the trees. It was getting late in the day, the sun creeping down toward the horizon, the shadows lengthening. I looked over at Aro, wondering what he had planned. He returned my gaze and smiled lazily, as if he had a great secret, and was enjoying playing it out.

"Now what, brother?" Didyme finally asked, her hand still clutched in mine. If I had it my way, I would never let hers go.

Aro glanced at her, but then back at me again. "Well, that city is just bursting with food for us. Just the thing you need to soothe those throats…and mine as well, if truth be told!" he chuckled. "We just need to wait for the sun to go down, and we can take our pick of the place."

"What, are we going to steal food?" Didyme asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. I kept silent: I knew what Aro meant.

He laughed then, a full-bellied sound, shaking his head at his sister's ignorance. "Ah, sister, how innocent you are!" He reached out and covered our joined hands with his; I tried not to pull away. "Have you still not realized what it is that we feed on? _Who_ we feed on?"

She blinked, nonplussed.

"Breathe deeply, Didyme, inhale the scents of the city, the wind is blowing toward us now…Smell. You will figure it out."

Didyme closed her eyes and obeyed; I did, too, curious. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs.

The smells of the city were indeed blown toward us on the late-afternoon breeze. I could recognize everything: dust, animal and human sweat, dung, wood burning, food cooking—and oddly enough, the food didn't smell appetizing at all to me. Then it struck me like a blow: the hot, coppery scent that set my mouth to watering furiously. A smell unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I opened my eyes and found Aro watching me eagerly.

"What…what is that?" I whispered.

"Blood." The one word fell like a stone, heavy and unavoidable. "It is what we must drink to survive. No more consuming filthy animal flesh or things grown in the dirt. Simply the essence of life itself is all we need now."

I nodded. I had realized it, a bit at a time. So many things pointed to the fact that we were now blood-drinkers: the drained corpses of Aro's huntsmen, while the horses had been ignored…Aro's comments about my being Didyme's next meal, if I chose not to join him…Him speaking of how the scent of my blood was very tempting…

And indeed, that hot, metallic smell was seductive. My throat was afire. I had never wanted anything so much as I wanted to drink down that smell. I saw Didyme from the corner of my eye clutch her throat compulsively, swallowing, her face twisted with the pain of the thirst.

"Patience, my friends, patience," Aro murmured. We settled back to wait for dusk, turning our backs on the city and its tempting smell.

Once night had fallen, we stole from our hiding place and crept into the city. Even with the wall and the armed guards, it was ridiculously easy to do. The narrow, unpaved streets were all but deserted in the dark, only a few sputtering torches posted at the corners of major intersections and in front of the grander houses providing light. My eyes could see in the darkness just as well as in the sunlight; the curious sharpness of the details, lit by colors I had never seen before, was hypnotizing. I found it hard to focus, my senses were so sharp, and everything was so new. It was only by focusing on my thirst that I could pay attention to what Aro was doing.

He was leading us along through the shadows, searching for something. I couldn't tell what, but I knew we had to remain hidden, so I stayed quiet and followed Aro obediently, Didyme right behind me.

Finally he seemed to find what he'd been seeking.

It was the poorer section of the town, the houses jammed together, trash clogging the streets, homeless dogs and cats gazing at us dispassionately from the shadows. There were people on the streets there, dirty, hopeless people, homeless beggars; they watched us too, with numb curiosity.

We turned off the road into an alley, Aro smiling broadly at us. "Here we may choose practically whomever we like; the homeless poor are invisible, and no one cares if they die. Better that they nourish us than die in the streets, no?"

I swallowed, a bit sickened by the concept. But at the same time, the raging thirst was almost unmanageable; the scent of the human blood, all around us, was so intense. I could feel Didyme behind me, almost vibrating with effort of holding herself back.

Aro raised one eyebrow questioningly. "What, brother, do you feel bad about taking a life?"

I gazed at him steadily, trying not to let my feelings show on my face. As a matter of fact, I did feel bad about it. I was conflicted. I had always been taught that life was precious, and that murder was a terrible crime.

He shook his head in disgust. "Come, Marcus, surely you can see that we are the ones who should set the rules now? We are vastly superior to the mortals in every way. It makes perfect sense. They provide us with the means to survive and the means to propagate our species: they are like cattle, like livestock. Yes, they have feelings and thoughts and such…but we are so much further beyond them! It is a privilege for them to nourish us, don't you agree?"

It did make sense…especially with the thirst charring my insides.

In the end, the decision to act wasn't mine.

Didyme, with a fearsome snarl, bolted past me into the shadows. I stared after her in shock; I had never heard anything like that sound from her. I listened to her footsteps, fading a bit with distance, I heard the footsteps of the human she was following…and then I heard the sounds of the attack: one malevolent hiss, the cry of surprise and fear from her prey, choked off suddenly…the thud of bodies hitting the ground…Didyme drinking…

When she returned, emerging from the shadows between two of the slum apartment buildings like an alabaster angel, she was daintily wiping the corners of her mouth with the edge of her _palla_, smiling brightly at me.

"You must try this, Marcus! It's wonderful!" she sang, and then she was there before me, kissing me. It was hard to resist her; the smell of blood was fresh, so tempting. "Just go ahead and do it, my love, you must!"

It was a lost cause to resist. I buried the leftover moral arguments from my human existence, covering them up with the reality of my changed situation. I couldn't mourn my new destiny, I had chosen it deliberately. And I couldn't change who or what I now was. So I set out in search of my own prey.

It was easier than I had ever imagined possible. I won't bore you with the details; you know what the first kill was like. Suffice to say, the relief from the thirst was overwhelming. I could think more clearly, and the warm, nourishing blood that I had taken from my victim caused my senses to sharpen even more. The world was a wonderland, even that dirty slum.

While I hunted, Aro had done the same. We met back in the alley.

"Now what?" I asked Aro. I felt so alive and powerful, not tired in the least. I knew I would never need to sleep again. It made life easier, not to have to care for the weaknesses of the mortal body and its constant needs. All I needed was blood, and Didyme.

"We need to find a place all our own, Marcus. A city we can control, a home base, where we are safe and can . And perhaps we can begin to gather others such as ourselves, others with special abilities, even if we must make them ourselves. I have great plans for us, Marcus." His crimson eyes glowed in the darkness, eager, hungry. "We shall be revered, Marcus, mark my words!" I remembered his ultimatum, days before, in Didyme's room, that I must join Aro and help him in his quest for power…or die.

I was beginning to realize that the decision I had made, to follow Didyme into this life, had much larger and farther-reaching consequences than I had ever been capable of imagining before.

I was no longer a simple farmer. I didn't have a simple life ahead of me anymore. My dreams of marrying Didyme and having children with her, of building a home together and raising crops, of eventually growing old at her side, surrounded by our family, were gone. And I wasn't the man I once was, I couldn't be that any longer. The morals I had lived by as a mortal were not applicable in my life anymore. Good and evil, right and wrong—those concepts didn't matter to me anymore. I was an immortal creature who lived on the blood of humans. I was powerful and fast and possessed unparalleled senses; I had no need to breathe, to sleep. I would never get sick again, never grow old and die. And my beloved was the same. The facts of our nature were unchanging, and I had to accept it.

I also had to accept that I was now part of something larger than myself. I still possessed my sense of honor, my commitment to honor my promises. I had promised Aro that I would join him, that I would help him. And perhaps whatever Aro wanted—_power _was the basic distillation of his goal—would ultimately benefit Didyme and myself. Who was I to judge him? Wasn't an ambitious, driven man looked upon with admiration, even among mortals? He had dreams and goals, and I had to admit to myself that he was fiercely intelligent and gifted, the kind of man, immortal or otherwise, that others naturally follow.

I had never been a leader. I had always been a supporter, the kind of man that others leaned upon and depended upon. I was valuable in my own way, but not for my capacity to be inspiring or make big plans. I did have my gift for perceiving the relationships and bonds of others, which would be helpful. But a leader? No. Aro was much more suited for that. And I could go along with him, help him, as long as I had my Didyme with me. She was enough to salve the remaining misgivings and twinges of conscience I had. She seemed to be adapting to her new life with amazing facility. I needed to follow her example—after all, I could never go back, could I? And why would I want to, without her?

All of those thoughts passed through my head in the space of a few seconds. Aro stood watching me, waiting, his hand halfway extended toward me; I knew he wanted to touch me desperately, to hear my thoughts.

So I reached out and touched the back of his hand, and let him see.

He smiled broadly, showing all his glittering, sharp teeth.

"Well done, Marcus. Well done."

And so it began. The brotherhood was formed.

But we still were missing some members.

Over the next several years, Aro, Didyme and I traveled throughout Italy and the surrounding countries, seeking the city we would take for ourselves. Ironically, what we had been looking for had been right in our backyard, so to speak: Volterra was only a few miles from Pisa, where we had all grown up.

In the course of those travels, the three of us "grew up" quite a bit. We learned how to bridle our thirst, how to control our fierce and passionate newborn natures, how to use our fledgling abilities to their best advantages. Didyme, it was determined, had a gift for making those around her love her. I found that very fitting: she had done so without any effort whatsoever when a mortal, and as an immortal she was completely and utterly irresistible. Even Aro couldn't hold against her, when she turned the full force of those glowing ruby eyes on him, when she wanted something badly enough. She overwhelmed him with love, until he finally gave in.

It never came to that point with me. I will never know if what I felt for her was something natural, borne of a "real" love between us, or whether her gift played some part in how truly intensely we loved each other. But it didn't matter. It never has, and never will. I loved her, she loved me, plain and simple.

We married in a simple ceremony. We found a priest of Zeus, a half-blind old man tending his tiny shrine on the side of a mountain in the foothills near Rome, who performed the ceremony at dusk. Didyme veiled herself; I tried not to look at the old man too closely, although I didn't think he could tell my eye color in the dark and with his blindness. Still, it was official: she was mine, I was hers. I felt bad that her family could not witness it, but in the end, we were enough for each other.

We returned to Etruria because Didyme wanted to.

"I want to see Mother and Father, Marcus!" she insisted, clutching my hands in hers, her eyes pleading with me. "I want to make sure they are well, at least. I promise, I won't do anything bad. Please, Aro!"

Aro shook his head; I knew he didn't have the slightest desire to see his father or stepmother, but he would, of course, allow Didyme her request.

So it was that in the late autumn of that year we crept up the slopes of Monte Pisano and looked in on the Donati estate.

Cestus was still alive, but he had aged tremendously in the previous years. Grief had marked him, engraving deep lines in his forehead and at the corners of his mouth; he was now a stooped old man, half-blind, where before he had been a strong and vibrant man who walked straight and proud. Losing his oldest son and his favorite daughter had devastated him. I flatter myself a bit to say I think he missed me, as well.

Lucretia had died the previous spring, we found. She had never recovered from the shock of Aro and Didyme's disappearances. The blood found on Didyme's bedroom floor had given the poor woman a stroke; she had wasted away for the better part of a year, before finally slipping away in her sleep.

Didyme learned then that we could not weep any more. Perhaps it is a good thing, that we are unable to shed tears—after all, we do such terrible things, that if we were able to grieve like mortals we might never accomplish anything. I tried my best to comfort her, but the best thing to do was to take her away again, never to return.

We traveled through the night past Pisa, coming to a newer city that we had never been to before. Volterra. Much like Pisa and Siena, buildings constructed of grainy sandstone, it was a walled hill fort, with a beautiful view of the lands around it.

Aro and I stood and watched the town, silhouetted against the rising moon. Something just felt right. He turned and looked at me and smiled; I touched his hand, let him hear my thoughts. It was something we'd fallen into the habit of doing. I had never been one for speaking much, so it was much simpler to allow him to read my mind. I had nothing to hide anymore.

"Yes, it is perfect, isn't it, brother?" he murmured, looking back at the city. "So much could be done with it…"

We moved into Volterra that night.

At first, we stayed hidden. We had amassed a great deal of wealth in our travels, between robbing our victims, stealing, and various other endeavors, but it was difficult for us to rent or purchase a home, due to the blatant facts of our nature: our blazing red eyes were almost impossible to conceal. We would terrify anyone we tried to meet with. Finally, we just decided to take what we wanted.

We had studied the town over the course of a few days with critical eyes, seeking the right place for us. We had decided on the home of a wealthy merchant who lived in the most affluent part of the city; his house was large, well-built, and surrounded by a wall of its own. And even better, he was an older man, a widower, with no living family. When he departed Volterra one morning and conveniently never returned, we took possession of the house, even producing a bill of sale signed by the merchant himself when a curious neighbor inquired.

Didyme immediately set about making the home hers. The first order of business was securing slaves. After all, it was a large house, and she had no desire to clean it all herself. Also, we had to have some way to interact with the mortal world, and no one is more loyal than a good slave: you hold their world in the palm of your hand, and intelligent slaves knew if they faithfully served their masters, they might earn their freedom someday. Regardless of how strange their master is.

Didyme waited for a few days without feeding, letting her eyes darken sufficiently so that they weren't flaming red, then set off late one afternoon toward the market square, where the slave auctions took place. She wrapped herself head to toe and even veiled her face, something she had never done in mortal life, as an extra precaution. A few hours later, she returned to the home with six slaves, three young women, a young boy, and two men. She had used her gift on them: they adored her, and would have done anything she asked them to do happily.

"Marcus, Aro, please do be courteous and don't allow yourselves to succumb to temptation with my slaves, won't you?" she said sweetly, glancing back over her shoulder at the six slaves, who all were staring down at their feet, silent and docile. I laughed and kissed her; Aro rolled his eyes and disappeared into the library, where he spent most of his time. I looked appraisingly at the slaves for a moment, then took her hand. She had removed her veil when she came in. I wondered idly if the slaves had seen her eyes yet. They hadn't seemed to notice mine, with their eyes glued to their bare feet.

Didyme clapped her hands sharply. "Come now! Time to pay attention!" she cried. Startled, they all jumped and looked at her and me…then recoiled, eyes wide, as they took in our faces.

She hadn't shown them, I decided, smiling a bit. She sighed impatiently.

"Stop staring like a bunch of geese. This is how we are. Don't worry, we won't hurt you. You just need to remember, don't discuss us or our peculiar natures. What we do and how we do it is our business alone, so don't say anything, to anyone. _Anyone._ Am I understood?"

I had never heard my gentle wife sound so very stern. But she followed her words up with a surge of her gift; the poor slaves lost some of the terror on their faces and relaxed.

"If you serve us well and loyally, and remain discreet, you may someday be granted your freedom. We shall be kind masters, you may be sure. Do not abuse our indulgence, and do not mistake our kindness for weakness, either." They nodded. She turned, motioning for them to follow her. "Now, let us tour the house, and we shall go over your duties and such…" Then they were gone.

I never remembered the names of any of our slaves. Except for the one notable exception, who I shall get to in a moment. They were really beneath my notice, part of the house like the furniture and walls. Some of them were ultimately freed, others were not. But as long as Didyme ran our household, a silent and obedient army of humans served our every need, and as far as I know, they never divulged our secrets.

And now we come to Caius.

Caius was originally named Cae Venete, the youngest son of a very poor candlemaker in Perugia. When his father had died, leaving a widow and several young children and a great deal of debt, the creditors stepped in and took everything. The children were all sold into slavery. Didyme brought him to our home when he was about seven years old.

He was already a very distant, cold-natured person at that young age; he had seen many terrible things in his days of poverty. He had already been sold two times before Didyme picked him up for a bargain price: apparently, he had been a troublemaker, causing fights and stealing, the auctioneer had told her. I still to this day don't fully understand why Didyme chose to bring him home. I would have looked right over him, especially after hearing of his pedigree. But that was the nature of my wife: she tried to see the best in everyone, and she was always trying to make others happy. Perhaps she wanted to see if she could bring him out of his shell. I know she regretted never being able to bear children, even though she never spoke with me about it; it could be that she was seeking a replacement for the children she would never have.

Regardless of her reasons for bringing the boy home, he was there. We had been in Volterra for a few years by that point, and had settled into a comfortable rhythm. We all had our particular diversions and amusements to pass the time and keep our minds occupied. Aro had turned into a scholar: he amassed books and scrolls and tablets by the hundreds, in various languages, old and new. The library was already bursting at the seams, but he still went out on book-hunting forays every few months, bringing more back with him. He seemed obsessed with learning, and he was constantly scribbling notes and lists and plans, which he did not show me. Didyme found satisfaction in her efforts at beautifying everything around her: she had planted a lovely garden in our atrium, a wide area in the center of the house, completely open to the sky. She had completely refurnished and redecorated the house, and at that time was going through a phase where she was dabbling with painting and sculpture, and she raised songbirds, which she kept in wicker cages throughout the house and garden. I split my time between Aro's library and Didyme's garden, or I abandoned the city completely, to wander in the forests. I found that I greatly enjoyed being alone, appreciating the beauty of the world around me, away from everyone else.

I had just returned from one of my solitary wanderings when Didyme appeared with a new slave boy. She always kept a young boy around, to be used as a messenger and to help the women in the house. I wondered where the other boy had gone for a moment, then remembered that the "boy" I was thinking about was now closer to being a man, and had begun working with the other men. As I said before, I didn't pay much heed to the slaves, before Caius.

Caius was a handsome young boy, tall, his hair a very odd white-blonde color I had never seen before, his skin snow-white, like ours, but still mortal-soft. This child was unusual. My fascination grew when he looked up at me: his eyes were pink, like a rabbit's, and completely and totally unafraid of me. His gaze was steady and unflinching, his little face cold and emotionless. I had never seen a child's face like that. Despite his obvious youth, he seemed ancient.

"An albino?" I asked quietly, catching Didyme's eye. I had seen them before, but not often. Usually children born with that strange coloring were not kept, they were often considered bad omens, and would be left exposed in the woods or on the sides of mountains, to allow the gods to make the decision whether the child would live or die. The only ones I had seen alive had been beggars on the streets, and never any in Italy.

Didyme reached down and touched the boy's head lovingly. She pointedly ignored my question. "This is Cae, Marcus. He is the newest addition to our family." Caius looked up at her, and for the first time I saw emotion in his face. He even smiled a little. Then he looked back at me and the smile vanished so completely it was as if it were never there. "But we're going to call him Caius. We're not simple Etruscans any longer; Caius is much more fashionable. Much more dignified, don't you think?" Caius never took his eyes from Didyme's face. He reached up to touch her hand, where it rested on his forehead, and the sleeve of his tunic fell back, revealing his shoulder.

It was covered with a twisted, lumpy mass of scar tissue, colorless like the rest of his skin, but obviously fresh. My mind balked at what could have possibly done that to him. I had to clamp down on my reaction, regain control, not show my shock.

I nodded gravely, still studying the boy. I focused on the bond between him and Didyme, saw it strengthening by the moment as she plied him with her love. I could tell from the determined set of her chin that she had made up her mind to crack the boy's stony exterior and get him to open up to her. The use of the word "family" did pique my curiosity, though. It was as if she was saying that he would _literally_ become one of us. I reminded myself to speak with her about it later, in private.

"Come along, Caius, I shall show you your room," Didyme said, reaching down to take the boy's hand. She kissed me soundly before leading him away into the house. He followed her obediently, glancing back at me for a moment.

What I saw in those cold, pink eyes then was disturbing: hate. Pure, unadulterated, mature, calculating hate. I was taken aback by the intensity of it, and completely bewildered by why he would hate me so much, when he had just met me.

I had much to learn about the child who would grow up to be the man whom I would eventually call my brother. It was a long and difficult journey to that point.

Caius adapted well to the household. He was quiet and obedient, despite his bad reputation. Perhaps he was trying extra-hard to please Didyme, who was obviously the center of his universe. He was like a sunflower, and she the sun: everywhere she went, he followed, even if only with his eyes. It was rather endearing, that devotion. It is very hard to dislike someone who loves your beloved, after all. I didn't see any evidence of that hateful glance from that first day again. I had actually begun to wonder if I had imagined it. I tried hard to get past his strangeness, but in those months he was stubbornly aloof.

Then one day the side of Caius that Didyme had been warned about, the anger and aggression, emerged.

It was a beautiful day. Didyme and I were outside in the garden; she was training roses to climb the trellis I had just built for her. She was bare-legged, wearing a short toga that was really for a boy, her skin sparkling like a field of diamonds in the bright sunlight, her hair long and loose, hanging down to the backs of her delicate knees. She was beyond lovely. I watched her clever fingers gently tying the fragile vines; she was humming tunelessly, her lower lip between her teeth as she always did when she was concentrating and happy. I couldn't help myself; I had to reach out and pull her to me.

"Marcus, the roses!" she cried in protest…but then she wound her legs around my waist and kissed me, pressing against my chest, as if trying to meld herself into me. I rapidly began trying to make up my mind whether to have her there in the garden, or if it would be better to take her into the house. I had decided on the house (there was less chance of an unwelcome surprise visitor in our own bedroom) and was turning around to take her inside, when I noticed someone was there, in the archway leading from the house.

Caius was frozen, his pink eyes wide, staring at us. Didyme didn't see him; her back was to the boy, and she was too busy kissing my neck to probably care, even if she had seen him. I stared back at him for a long moment, wondering what to do. Obviously he was upset by seeing us like that. There were unshed tears standing in his eyes. I realized then, in that instant, that Caius was jealous of me, of my relationship with Didyme. Even at the age of seven he was envious. He wanted her all to himself. Perhaps Didyme had used her gift too much on him.

His eyes narrowed and his lip curled in disgust, his face twisted with hate and fury. Then without a word he turned and sprinted back into the house, silent as a mouse. I wondered what to do about him, I vaguely understood that a child should be comforted, but then Didyme began kissing my face and mouth, and my attention was happily diverted. I pushed the angry boy from my mind to concentrate on my entirely too-tempting wife.

It was several hours later when we finally decided it was time to leave our room. Both of us needed to feed; Didyme had put on more suitable clothing and had bound her hair up. Hand in hand, laughing, we went through the atrium, which was the quickest way to get to the front gate. Both of us stopped in horror at what we saw.

The rose trellis had been demolished completely, splinters and shards of wood were scattered everywhere as if it had exploded. The poor rose vines had been hacked to pieces and ground into the paving stones. The stone planters filled with the flowers that Didyme spent hours every week tending had been turned over, the plants uprooted and flung everywhere, and dirt had been smeared on the fluted columns that ringed the atrium itself.

And there was blood, too.

The wicker cages full of canaries and finches had been pulled down and smashed open…and the bodies of the poor birds were scattered about in sad little piles of feathers, their blood spattered on the ground, their songs silenced forever.

Didyme screamed, her hands flying up to cover her face, to block out the sight. I closed my eyes against the sound and swept her up into my arms, rushing her back inside. How ironic, I thought absently, as I took her back into our bedroom. Ironic that a being who survives on blood could be so traumatized by the sight of the blood of a few songbirds. But I knew it was more than that; she had seen the destruction of something she loved so much, something she had created with her own hands, she felt violated by the acts perpetrated on that garden and on those birds.

"Marcus!" she shrieked, battering at my chest as I lay her down on the bed. "Who did that! And why?"

I shook my head. I knew who it had been. Of course.

"Caius, my love."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, she shook her head fiercely. "No, Marcus, he's a good boy! Why would he do that, especially to me? He loves me!"

I sighed heavily, brushing my fingertips along her cheekbone. "Beloved, I know you are attached to the child, but I have seen something in him…" I paused, trying to word things exactly right. "The first day, when you brought him here, after you kissed me, he gave me a look, so filled with hate that it disturbed me. I was going to ask you to send him away, but then I saw how much you cared for him, and I decided I would try to get to know him, that maybe what I saw was in my imagination.

"Then, just a while ago…I saw him in the garden. He was watching us. Together."

She stared at me, horrified. "And what did he do?"

I licked my lips, dreading having to tell her. "He looked at me again with that same hatred, Didyme, but even more. He was jealous. He is very attached to you, too. He was jealous of seeing us together, and terribly angry. I could see it in his eyes: he wanted to hurt us, to punish us, perhaps. Then before I could say or do anything, he ran away."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, hurt.

I chuckled, even though it didn't seem very funny, and looked everywhere but at her anguished face. "Well, love, we were a bit…occupied at the time?"

She nodded, looking away from me, her lips pressed together into a tight line, her eyes full of sadness and frustration. "And so now what, Marcus? What do we do with him? Send him away? Sell him?"

"That is your decision, Didyme. I do think it would be best, he is obviously not suitable for this house. I know he is just a child, but he is not _our_ child, he's a slave, after all—"

She cut me off, furious.

"Not _our_ child?" she cried, pushing my hands away from her. I backed off, stunned. She had never pushed me away before. "But he is a child, Marcus, and I took responsibility for him when I bought him. He has been terribly treated, and I cannot just throw him away like a piece of garbage!" Her anger was magnificent. I blinked at its intensity.

"Please, Didyme, I'm sorry, I had no idea you felt that way about him!"

She shook her head angrily, getting up from the bed, stalking to the door. "Well, I do!" she shot back at me over her shoulder as she flung the door open. Then she was gone.

I stayed where I was, still stunned.

When I finally did leave our rooms, I found the mess in the garden already cleaned, the damage repaired as much as was possible, although the flowers were gone, to be replanted another day. Even the paving stones had been scrubbed, no trace of blood or feathers anywhere.

I found Didyme in the kitchen, with Caius in her lap. She had her arms around him and was rocking him like a baby; his face was buried in her shoulder, her small white arms wound tightly around her neck. He was trembling. Whether it was from crying or from the fact that Didyme felt so cold to him, or both, I wasn't sure.

She looked up at me, her face expressionless, still rocking him, humming. She held my gaze for a long time, waiting for some reaction from me, some sign that I had changed my mind about the boy. Caius probably didn't even realize I was there. I sighed softly and nodded; a small, triumphant smile curved those perfect lips, then she looked back down at the child's head. She would get her way. She always did.

I did not, could not, understand why she would keep him after how much he had hurt her, but Didyme was not to be resisted. I did make a vow to myself to keep an eye on the boy, to watch for more of that type of behavior. I didn't want to see my wife like that again.

Later that night, Didyme found me in Aro's library. Aro had been gone for a few months, on one of his book-hunting voyages; I spent many hours in the library, reading, while Aro was gone. I preferred it when he wasn't there, it was more peaceful.

I heard the door open and smelled her incomparable scent before I saw her; I closed my eyes and savored it. She smelled something like rainwater and hyacinth and ripe strawberries, a clean, ripe, gorgeous scent that I still treasure to this day. My back was to the door, but I didn't turn to look at her. I didn't need to.

Her soft little hands touched my shoulders; she leaned down over the back of the chair, her hair falling all around me like a golden curtain. She pressed her cheek to mine. I smiled, reached up, pulled her into my lap.

"Am I forgiven for being a shrill, illogical shrew?"

"Only if I am forgiven for being a clumsy, insensitive brute."

We laughed together. It was good again. We never could stay angry at one another.

As much as I would have loved to stay there with her, I knew that we both needed to hunt. I could deal with the humans working in our home for a while, but it became too tempting after a week without feeding. The scent of their blood, the sound of their heartbeats, became too intense for me. I knew it was the same for her. "Let's hunt, beloved," I murmured into her hair. She nodded in agreement and pulled me up from the chair, and we fled into the cool night, in search of satisfaction.

A few hours later, we sat on the rooftop of our home, gazing down at the city. Many people did that, built patios on their roofs, to take advantage of the view and provide a cool place to sleep in the stifling heat of the summer. I felt almost drowsy in the afterglow of slaking my thirst, and I was delirious with happiness at having Didyme beside me, and no longer angry. She broke the comfortable silence first.

"Marcus, you need to understand something about Caius."

I stiffened, wondering if the argument was about to resurface.

She laughed. "Don't worry, silly, I just think you should hear it, maybe you will understand him better, and try to learn to care for him as I have?" She took my hands in hers, looking into my eyes, imploring me to listen, to try to understand.

I nodded. Of course. I was always helpless against her.

"Caius is only seven, but he has lived far too much for his years," she finally whispered, shaking her head. "I know that we do terrible things, we feed upon them, we steal from them…but we, at least, don't hurt the little ones." She shuddered.

I listened silently.

"Caius has told me many things. I know he doesn't speak much to anyone else, but he does to me, when we are alone. I think he wants me to know everything about him. He wants me to accept him. He wants love, more than anything. Because those are things he has never had before.

"When he was three, his father died, and he was sold into slavery with his mother. He has several brothers and sister, but he has no idea where they are. They were sold as well, but they only allowed Caius to stay with his mother, since he was the youngest. She was sold to a tanner, a man who processed hides and made leather, a very successful one, apparently. But he was a cruel man. Caius's mother became ill quickly from the chemicals they used, which is a common thing, I have heard. When she became too sick to work, the man sold Caius to try to recoup some of his investment. I believe she probably died shortly after that, but Caius was too young to remember the man's name.

"Caius was sold to a brothel, Marcus. He was only four years old. But you know…Well, you have heard of the appetites of some humans, I am sure." Didyme had to stop, her breathing ragged. "Apparently he was a favorite, because of his strange coloring."

I felt my guts twist in disgust. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what had been done to the poor boy.

I had seen the children of the houses of ill-repute, although I, of course, had never set foot inside one of those places. I had seen the children peeking through windows and barred gates, their little faces painted like dolls, dressed in bright clothing far too mature for their years. Some girls, but more boys. They called them catamites. I did not allow myself to consider what was done with those children by the monsters that patronized them.

Didyme continued after a moment, her voice shaking.

"He was there until the age of six. Apparently he became too…well, too unmanageable. I don't know the details. I didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to say. All he told me was that he was sold again because the brothel owner was angry at him. He was sold to a blacksmith.

"Caius told me that at first the blacksmith was kind to him, and he tried to please the man by being obedient and quiet and trying to learn quickly. It seemed to work for a while. But then the blacksmith's sons, who were a bit older than Caius, started teasing him. They ridiculed him for his strange eyes and pale skin. They hated that their father was fair to Caius. They did everything they could to make his life difficult.

"One day, they caught him in the shop, alone; their father was out. There were three of them, and only one of Caius…They beat him almost to death with their father's tools. One of them even poured boiling water from the smithy onto Caius's shoulder. It left him terribly scarred. He is lucky to have lived, Marcus."

I shook my head. How could mortals be so very cruel to each other? No matter how often I killed to feed, I never prolonged the agony. I gave them a quick death, one which was as painless as possible. And I never chose to feed upon a child. And to torture someone deliberately…especially a child…

Yes, we are predators. It is the inevitable fact of our nature. Yes, we view the humans as our prey. But we aren't normally cruel. There is no honor in that. I have yet, in my three millennia of existence, to ever meet any vampire who gloried in pain like far too many mortals do. Perhaps the sadistic part of humanity is usually lost in the transformation, or perhaps it is changed, merged with the need to feed on human blood, and tempered into something else . Or perhaps I am simply naïve. I am happy to remain so. It is much simpler.

"When the blacksmith found Caius, he was barely alive," Didyme continued, her voice heavy with unshed tears. "He asked his sons what had happened; they told him that they had caught Caius stealing the blacksmith's tools, and that they had punished him." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I cannot fathom why the man believed those horrible children. I can only imagine that perhaps the love of a parent, the ability to overlook such obvious sins and lies, is so very strong that it overcomes all reason…" She swallowed convulsively. "Marcus, he was only a little boy! Even if he was stealing, even if it were true…What reason would there be, to beat a child so severely? And why did the man listen to those sons of his? Surely he knew they were jealous, spoiled, worthless boys!"

I could only shake my head. All I could see in my mind's eye was Caius's pale face, those intense pink eyes, so very mature. So cold. So full of hurt, of anger.

"The blacksmith waited until he was sure Caius wouldn't die, then he sent for the auctioneer. He told him that the boy was a thief and a liar. That is what the auctioneer told me. But I know, Marcus, that the auctioneer didn't really believe it: he pressed Caius on me. Showed him to me specifically. He had given the boy time to heal, let him sleep in his own home. He knows me, that man. He knows I never mistreat my slaves."

I smiled at my wife. My beautiful, compassionate, vampire wife.

"Of course he did, my love. He wanted you to buy the boy, he knew it was the best chance Caius had, to go with you."

She looked at me, eyes huge, brilliant. "Marcus, I know he has done horrible things. And I know he is jealous and cold. But could you, please, just give him some of your time, show him a bit of kindness? He has been through so much."

I pulled her to me and kissed the top of her head. "Anything for you. And of course, he deserves a chance."

She pulled back a little, enough to look me in the eyes, her face deadly serious.

"Marcus, I promised him I would change him, when he is old enough."

I blinked, shocked. "Why?" I finally managed. I doubted she would have the control to not kill the boy. She was a vicious and instinctive hunter.

She sighed, laying her head against my chest. "Because he is terrified of dying."

I digested that for a moment. She continued before I could formulate an answer.

"Marcus, the boy believes his soul is stained forever by what he has done, by what he was made to do. He knows he has done wrong. He confessed to me what he did in the garden, and why. He told me he was jealous of you and me." Her voice was muffled against my chest, but I understood every word. "He wants to have a family. He wants to be with us forever."

I thought for a moment about those words. I thought about Caius's soul. I thought about the horrors he had been through. I thought about Didyme's garden, the crushed songbirds, the smashed roses. I thought about what could bring a seven year old child to do something like that. I wondered whether he could ever get past his past, or whether it would twist him forever. An immortal with an angry and resentful nature surely wouldn't be good. And Caius didn't seem to want anything from me but distance from him…and distance from my wife, apparently. It didn't seem promising.

But I still had to try. For her, if nothing else.

I reached down and lifted her chin so I could look her in the eye. For better or worse, I made a vow to myself then, and I followed it through, though I have often regretted it.

"My love, if you don't feel you are strong enough to make him one of us, when he has come of age, I shall do it for you."

And so the decision was made. Caius, that angry, violent, disfigured and abused boy, would be one of us someday.

Can you find it in your heart, my friend, to pity Caius, to try to understand why he became such a cold and insensitive man? I have not hidden anything from you. But I beg you, do not make me regret my honesty. Take this knowledge and use it to better yourself, and to grant Caius a little leeway. I know he can be detestable. But wouldn't you be, if you had endured what he had endured?

Things that happen to children shape what kind of an adult they will eventually become. Caius isn't to blame for what he is, truly. He had no option. What he knew as a child, before Didyme, was nothing but horror after horror. It warped the very fabric of his being.

I have more to tell you, but please, give me a moment. It is so hard to remember these things. So very painful. Give me a moment, my young friend, and I will finish Caius's story.


	3. Chapter 3: The Ties That Bind

**Chapter 3: The Ties that Bind**

**3:1**

I am sorry, my dear friend, where was I? Oh yes. Caius. I suppose I must finish with his story, to resolve all the questions. I do not like telling it, though, it is far too sad, but if you are to ever understand him, you must hear the tale.

The years passed quickly, as years are wont to do when their passage does not touch you. Aro continued his reading and exploring; Didyme re-built her garden and spent her time lavishing attention on young Caius, who seemed to open up a bit under her care. I spent much time alone, in the forest, enjoying the solitude, when I was not with my wife or my brother.

Before I knew it, Caius was almost a young man. He was fifteen in human years, I think, when I realized that the time was coming soon when Didyme would ask me to change him, and I knew I had to do something with him, help him become ready for the transition. It was a giant leap, and I didn't look forward to his newborn bloodthirstiness and strength: I knew it would be difficult for him to restrain himself in a houseful of human servants, much less in a whole city full of humans. So, one day I took him aside to speak with him about it, to explain some things and to hear his mind.

He'd grown a great deal, standing almost as tall as myself by then, his white hair hanging long and lank around his shoulders. His child's body had begun maturing into that of a man's, broader through the chest and thicker through the arms; he was a hard worker, so he was a well-built young man. But even so much time in our home, away from the horrors of his early childhood, had never removed the coldness from his face and the emptiness from his pink eyes.

I took him out into the garden, knowing it was the place he felt the most at ease, since it was where he spent the most time with Didyme. I acceded to his mortal body and sat down, indicating that he should take the marble bench across from mine.

"Sit down, Caius, we have some things to discuss."

His mouth gave a sour little twist at the corner, but he sat, and waited expectantly. The stony set of his face and the tension radiating from him was almost palpable. He was nervous, almost frightened.

I sighed. Obviously, this wasn't going to be simple. It never was with him.

"Caius, son, you know that the time is coming soon, when we will change you into one of us. You have asked it of Didyme, Didyme has asked it from me, and I did agree, out of love for my wife. I shall keep my word; a man always should keep his promises. But before I can, in good conscience, follow through with my promise, we must speak about the responsibilities and dangers that you will undertake and encounter in this life, especially when new."

He raised one white eyebrow quizzically, but seemed to relax a bit; I wonder what he had thought I was going to tell him, whether he believed I was going to scold him or accuse. It made me wonder if he was guilty of something, or if it was just the suspicious nature of the boy, born of so many years of pain and betrayal at the hands of others. But I ignored that errant thought and continued.

"Caius, you have been with us for several years now, and you know that we are very different from you. Since you have expressed a desire to become one of us, you should know everything that you can, so that when you are transformed it does not take you by surprise. I do not know how much Didyme has told you, so I shall do my best."

He nodded slightly, his eyes wide, and he leaned forward a little to listen better.

"The first year or so of your new life, you will be terribly…Well, you'll be terribly _thirsty_, Caius. And you know what we drink, what sustains us, correct?"

"Blood." His voice was cold, yet strangely eager, as he leaned forward a bit, captivated.

"Yes, blood, son. But regardless of how thirsty you are, we must always be careful around the humans. We live among them, we could rule them outwardly, but we do not. It would affect the balance of things, it would make our lives much more difficult, if we always did as we pleased with them. It is much better this way, to remain concealed and discreet in sating our appetites, and exert our influence in a more subtle manner. You know, for example, that we never feed anywhere close to Volterra, don't you?"

Caius licked his lips. "Yes. I know. Mother has told me. She tells me that is why she leaves me."

Ah, yes, he called Didyme "Mother" then.

"Well, you must obey that stricture, Caius. You will be extremely strong then, though, stronger than Aro or Didyme or myself, like more than all of us combined, so you must be obedient, or you will get yourself into trouble."

He stared at me like I'd gone mad. "Stronger?"

"Yes," I murmured, reaching out to tap him on the back of the hand; he withdrew slightly from the coldness of my touch, his eyes wide again. "Stronger. We don't really know why, although Aro has a theory that it has to do with the human blood remaining in your body for a time, until your new tissues finally dissolve it…But regardless of the _why_, you will be stronger, for a while, at least. And so, if you cannot obey and control yourself, we shall take you away from here, to somewhere more remote where you would be less dangerous to the life we have built here. Temporarily, of course."

Caius sat back and watched me silently for a long moment, his face unreadable; I wished I had Aro's gift, to hear his mind, at least just for those seconds. Finally he nodded. "I shall obey, sir. When will it happen?" Again, he sounded eager.

I shook my head. "I do not know right now. I must speak with Didyme and Aro, hear their opinion of the matter. And also, you need to be sure you are at a point in your life where you are satisfied with yourself—after all, you shall never change from that moment. If you chose to be changed now, you would forever have the body of a fifteen year old. Perhaps it is wiser to wait a few years, to allow yourself to mature a bit more?"

He considered that briefly, then nodded his agreement. "Thank you, sir," he said gravely, and stood to bow low before me. I couldn't help but be impressed by his formality and at least outward respectfulness. I dismissed him and watched him go, wondering again what lay beneath that calm, cold exterior, what kinds of monsters might lurk in his depths.

It wasn't long before I found out.

We had a little "family meeting" that evening after dusk; Aro had returned from a long trip abroad the day before, and was unpacking the crates of various things he had brought home with him. Didyme sat cross-legged on Aro's desk, sorting through scrolls, cataloguing them; when I came in she looked up and smiled at me, that slightly wicked, saucy smile that always made me feel alive, and blew me a kiss.

Aro glanced up from his stack of books to shoot me a slightly mocking half-grin. "So, brother, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? Have you finally begun to cultivate a true interest in expanding your mind?"

I ignored his barb. Aro was always trying to bait me, but I rarely gave in to him anymore. During our earlier years, when the newborn madness was still fresh, we had had many terrible arguments, even a few actual physical fights, but things between us had calmed down considerably since then, much to everyone's relief. I had made a decision to accept him as the head of our family, our coven, despite my reservations, for the sake of peace.

"Good evening, Aro. No, I have come because the time will soon come when Caius will ask to be changed, and I felt that it would be best if we had some kind of plan in place, for how to handle him during the first few years. And, despite your misgivings and distaste for the issue, it does involve you, brother."

Aro rolled his eyes dramatically and slapped the leather-bound book he'd been holding down onto the desk with a puff of dust. Didyme turned and glared at him.

"Oh, leave off, Aro, you know it must be done. I promised."

Aro grimaced. "Yes, that is exactly the problem, sister dear. You promised something that would affect us all, forever, based purely on some silly, emotional whim," he said, his tone dripping sarcasm.

Didyme threw a scroll at him, which he easily caught. "Tut tut, sister, do be careful. These things are delicate, after all."

She sighed and turned to me, climbing down from the desk and coming to take my hands in hers. "So, what do you think, Marcus?"

I looked down into her face, her small face which shone like the moon to me, her ruby eyes glittering. "I think we should wait until the lad has at least a few more years to mature: perhaps if he's fully a man when he's turned he might have a bit more control." She nodded encouragingly, so I went on. "And afterwards, we need to take him away from here. Take him someplace where he cannot endanger our lives here so easily."

Aro interjected. "Yes, please. I cannot allow some foolish child to jeopardize the things I have been working toward here. This is our city. We shall have it forever, if we take care."

Didyme shook her head in disgust, rounding on Aro. "Truly, brother, you are so short-sighted. How are we to put all your grand plans into effect if we are only three of us? Caius shall be the first of many, and we must learn to handle them quickly." She regarded Aro speculatively for a moment. "And I think you should consider finding a wife. You're far too sulky. Perhaps a bit of love and fun might lighten you up some."

Aro stared at her in horror. I had to chuckle myself: the idea of Aro with a wife was frankly hilarious. He wouldn't know what to do with her, I thought, then tried to hastily blur it from my mind—the next time Aro touched me, he'd hear my slander directly from my thoughts. But still, Aro looked on women with a great deal of disdain and seemed to take no pleasure in their company, only enjoying his books and his plans and schemes.

Didyme giggled and moved on briskly. "So, we shall have Caius as our test subject, then. I think another three years should be sufficient for him, eighteen is a nice age for a young man, the prime of life. He would do well to be eighteen forever."

I nodded agreement and stroked her face, she smiled up at me brilliantly. She had been fifteen when turned, but people matured much earlier in those times, especially girls. I had been lucky that her father had not married her off earlier, at twelve or thirteen.

"My wife is not only lovely but wise as well," I murmured, before bending to kiss her. She giggled again beneath my lips, then threw her arms around me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and my thoughts rapidly slid away from more practical matters…

"Oh for the sake of all that is sacred, get _out_!" Aro barked, and raised a book as if he might throw it at us.

Laughing, we fled from his wrath and sought our own chambers, where there were much more delightful diversions awaiting us than dusty old scrolls.

**3:2**

Three years passed like the blink of an eye to us.

Caius came to me the day after the celebration of Saturnalia, the date when all Romans marked their birthdays. He had grown even more, until he could look me in the eye, fully a man. His face cold and composed, he bowed and said, "I am ready, sir, if you are still disposed to keeping your promise."

I couldn't help but be a bit taken aback by his implication that I might _not_ be willing to keep the promise, but I decided to ignore it. I did that often: ignore an implied insult for the sake of peace.

"Of course, Caius. Let me speak to Didyme and we shall take care of it this evening."

He nodded coolly and left.

Didyme came to me a few moments later; I assumed Caius had asked her to find me. I shook my head at his impatience: did he have any idea what he was so eager to become?

I had been, by that time, immortal for over one hundred years. I had seen the people I had once known and loved die, I had ceased to be anything resembling human anymore in anything but the basest physical resemblance. I was a creature of the night, drinking human blood, hard and fast and strong…but lonely. I had no connection with others, except for my love for my wife, and my vague allegiance to Aro. I had accepted the transformation because of Didyme, but I didn't resent her for it: we could be immortal together, and that was worth any changes I had to endure. But Caius had nothing, no one, like I did. How would he fare, in the face of such momentous and, yes, monstrous, alterations?

"So the time has come, beloved?" she whispered, peering up into my face as if she were trying to read my thoughts. I smiled and touched her lips gently.

"Yes, it appears so." I stopped, hesitant. "I hope I have enough self-control to do this, Didyme."

Her smooth brow furrowed in worry. "I…I didn't know that you had any doubts, Marcus," she murmured. "I shouldn't like to see Caius hurt…any more than necessary. Or to have you bludgeon yourself if something went wrong. I couldn't bear you feeling guilty about it."

I sighed and smoothed back a strand of her golden hair from her face, stiffening my spine with forced resolve. "Don't worry, darling, I shall do my best to be restrained. I think I have the strength in me." Did I? I fervently prayed I did.

She bit her lower lip in consternation but didn't press the issue. "I'll go to him now. You come when you're ready, husband." Then she was gone like a spring breeze, leaving the scent of rosewater and pressed violets she wore as perfume lingering in the air around me.

I closed my eyes and considered the task at hand.

When Aro had transformed me he had bitten me several times, which he told me was what had been done to him, flooding my system with the venom which affected the change. I had never, in all the years since, been able to prize the secret of who had changed him from his secretive heart, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was, would I be able to duplicate all those bites, taste the blood and not drink deeply?

I took a deep, shuddering breath to try to calm the thirst I felt in reflex to thinking about feeding, banishing the thoughts from my mind. I had to center myself, anchor myself to the very ground, to keep from giving in to the thing that felt most natural to me than anything else besides loving Didyme: drinking deeply when the blood was before me.

I stood like a statue for a long time, forcing the bloodlust to drain from me. I had to think of Caius differently than I had ever thought of a human before. I had to forget about the blood and think about the venom: I was giving, not receiving. Finally, I felt ready, and went to join Didyme and Caius in the room we had prepared.

Caius sat on a pallet in the center of the small, windowless room toward the back of the house, and he seemed even more pale than normal as he watched me enter, his pink eyes huge, but he held his mouth tightly, his whole body stiff with resolve. He was determined.

I could see the strength of the bond that pulsed between him and Didyme, who knelt beside the low bed, her hand on Caius's arm reassuringly, and reminded myself that this was something I had promised _her_: I could not fail.

"Are you ready, Caius?" I asked quietly, holding his eyes with mine. "You must be absolutely, completely sure. Once done, it is done."

He took a quick breath and closed his eyes; for a moment, I watched doubt and fear and eagerness war across his features as he considered his future. I could almost see the paths diverging in his mind: one traveling through the life he knew, a mortal life with a mortal death, comfortable and safe; the other, a dimly-lit path stretching into the mists of unknown eternity, fraught with mysteries and strangeness. I knew those paths, I had looked down them myself years before and made my choice with no true regrets…but I had something, _someone_, that he did not have: I had Didyme lighting my immortal future like a blazing torch, casting all my doubts and fears into the shadows, rendering them harmless and inconsequential. Caius faced the future alone, or at least not supported as I had been.

It was not long before he opened his eyes and nodded slightly. "I am ready, sir."

I sighed and knelt beside him, pulling my tunic up a bit so I didn't settle my knees on the fabric. I reached out and lay my hand on his shoulder; he didn't flinch away from the coldness of my touch, but his muscles were like rock beneath my hand.

"This will hurt, Caius. More than anything you have ever imagined."

One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. "Somehow I doubt that, sir. You have no idea what I have endured." Unconsciously I glanced down at his shoulder, where his own tunic covered the horrible burn scars that ridged his white flesh. I wondered if any trace of those scars would remain after the transformation.

"Be that as it may, son, prepare yourself. Screaming does not help." I leaned forward holding my breath so I would not inhale the scent of his blood. "Close your eyes. I will make it fast."

He closed his eyes, surrendering.

For a moment I considered the tiny purple veins threading his nearly transparent eyelids, the blood pulsing through them, pumped on by his heart, which was beginning to accelerate with the fear he couldn't keep his body from feeling; his breathing sped, coming in rapid pants as I leaned into him.

I kept my word, I made it as fast and painless as possible. Quick slashes at the neck, wrists, inside of the elbows, palms, then down to above the heart and then on to the legs, in the same pattern as Aro had taken with me.

At first it was simple, but then the scent of his blood flowing from the gashes I made in his white skin began to overwhelm me, and the thirst began clawing at my throat…I had to draw back and hold my breath for a moment to gather up my strength to not simply tear out his throat, my thirst roaring, his blood smelled so very tempting…

"Wait, beloved. I shall finish." Didyme's tiny hand pressed against my chest, pushing me away from Caius. "Step back."

I obeyed her thoughtlessly; she leaned over Caius, who was weeping silent tears from between his tightly-closed eyelids; they rolled down his temples and soaked his white hair. She whispered into his ear.

"Do not worry, son. I shall make the end of it."

And she sealed up all his streaming wounds with a quick pass of her tongue; the bleeding stopped, trapping the venom inside Caius's body, and there was nothing left to do but wait.

Didyme sat back and wiped her mouth daintily, turning blazing crimson eyes on me. "By all the gods, Marcus, that was difficult!" she hissed, then stood to join me. I chuckled, breaking the tension.

Caius lay motionless on the pallet, eyes screwed shut, hands balled into fists, his veins standing out deep blue beneath his white skin, his muscles tensed and rock-hard as he struggled not to cry out. I could hear his heart hammering away inside his chest, hear the blood pulsing inside him, smell it too…then the scent changed, the hot, coppery saltiness of humanity began to clash with the sweet otherworldly scent of the venom…

"_Aaahh!_"

Caius's back suddenly arched in agony, his head thrashing back and forth against the pillow as the burning began in earnest, the venom searing mercilessly through those veins, charring as it went. The scream had escaped from between his teeth: his jaw was clenched so savagely that I could hear his teeth grinding together.

Didyme turned her head into my shoulder, not wanting to see her adopted son in pain. I watched Caius for a moment longer before drawing her out of the room, closing the heavy door behind us carefully.

"We cannot help him now. Only time will make it end, wife." She nodded against me and let me take her out into the garden.

It was a beautiful night, the moon hanging full and ripe above us like a ghostly fruit in the star-spattered sky. Not a cloud obscured the heavens, and a cool breeze blew, stirring the flowers and leaves in Didyme's atrium garden.

She had taken over a year to reconstruct her garden, selecting the most beautiful and fragrant flowers and plants. The planters had been filled with shrubs, new trellises constructed, a fountain built in the center of it all. During the day, the air was thick with the scents of honeysuckle, roses, and violets, while the colors of the pansies and marigolds and azalea and bougainvillea shocked the eye; then at night, the heavy, dreamlike fragrance of night-blooming jasmine, moonflowers, evening primrose and nicotiana caressed us, the silvery flowers gleaming in the moonlight.

Now we sat on the lip of the fountain, which had a statue of a young girl pouring an ewer of water into the main pool. Tiled all over with tiny stones in every shade of blue, during the day it looked like a little piece of the sky had fallen to earth, full of sparkling water. That night the water reflected the moonlight; I reached down and took a handful of it: like cupping the moon in my palm. I watched the ripples play across the surface of my tiny captive lake for a moment before pouring it back into the fountain, diamond drops shattering the surface.

"Three days?" Didyme's voice was low and sad. I nodded, slipping my arm around her shoulder. "I hope less. Perhaps you did a better job with it than Aro did with us?"

I laughed. "Perhaps. But do not tell your brother that: he despises being compared to anyone else." She giggled too, covering her mouth guiltily to smother the sound, lest Aro suddenly appear in front of us.

Then Caius began screaming, and it was no use to talk anymore.

We sat in silence as the night passed, the moon marching across the sky, until dawn's rosy fingers touched the eastern horizon. We sat and waited and tried not to listen to the screams. Because there was nothing to do to help them, or make it better.

Only time.

Three days. Three days of unending screams. He hadn't listened to our advice, that screaming wouldn't help: he simply shrieked and shrieked as the venom burned itself through his mortal body. Didyme and I took turns sitting by him, keeping him company, although neither of us believed it really mattered much. Perhaps it would make him more biddable when the whole thing was done, if he knew that someone had always been watching over him.

Finally, at dawn on the third day, the end came. With a thunderous pounding shudder, his mortal heart died, and Caius opened his eyes to a whole new world. Didyme was the first thing he saw.

Immediately he launched himself up, hissing, his huge newborn strength taking him as far as he could go: he flew backwards and punched through the wall, falling into the next room, scrabbling and growling as he tried to get away from us, his eyes vivid and wheeling with the newborn madness.

"Peace, Caius, be calm my son!" Didyme called, her hands outstretched to him pleadingly. "You are safe!"

Caius's crazed eyes flashed back and forth between myself and Didyme, his face twisted with hostility.

"I warned you, Caius, that this would happen," I said quietly, reaching out to draw my wife behind me, placing myself between her and Caius. I heard footsteps behind me and knew that Aro was there as well: even though he was disdainful of the whole idea of turning Caius, there was no way he would allow the newborn monster to harm any of us, or ruin his precious plans.

"Control yourself, young man, or _we_ shall control you," Aro growled, flanking me.

Caius heaved a struggling breath, as if the very air seared his dead lungs; I could practically feel his confusion, how overwhelmed he was by the sheer volume and quality of input flowing through his grossly heightened senses. "I—had—no…no idea it would be like—like _this_!" he gasped, his hands flying to his throat, which I knew burned like acid. He inhaled deeply, a low growl building in his chest, his head swiveling blindly to seek something. He smelled the slaves in the other parts of the house. I saw him tense to prepare to spring, and Aro and I met Caius in midair as he launched himself toward the door.

"Not so fast, boy!" Aro grated, using all his strength to help me pin Caius to the floor; the boy struggled mightily, snarling like a caged lion, and his huge strength nearly had us until Didyme joined us, throwing herself atop the pile of us all.

"Caius!" she cried, reaching down between Aro and myself to touch Caius on the face. "Caius, please, my son, stop it! You must calm yourself!" Then I felt the surge of love she pushed toward him; it made me dizzy as it passed, like the scent of strong perfume or the punch of unwatered wine on an empty stomach when I had drunk such things. "Please, Caius, for me!"

He stopped struggling. "Anything for you," he whispered, closing his eyes against her touch.

Aro made a gagging noise in the back of his throat. "As if the boy didn't obsess about you enough already, Didyme! Have you _any_ idea what you're doing to him?" Suddenly I realized that Aro was hearing Caius's thoughts through their touch, and I felt a primal surge of anger and jealousy course through me, hearing my worst fears and suspicions about the boy confirmed. I glared down into Caius's face, into those wheeling, fiery eyes, and growled at him.

Caius stared back up at me, challenging, furious. "Get off me. _Now_." His tone was icy, more than it had ever been before. No more "sir," either. Now he felt he was our equal, I supposed.

"Only if you'll promise to be good, Caius. No attacking the servants. We'll take you out to hunt, but you must hold onto yourself until we are outside the city walls, at least, all right?" Didyme purred at him, while with her free hand she blindly reached over to take mine. I felt her love for me pulse through me, replacing the anger and jealousy. "You are my son. _Our_ son. And we are very pleased with you. So please, try to continue to make us proud."

The newborn stared up at her and I knew his anguish. He didn't want to be Didyme's son. He wanted her like _I_ wanted her.

But he'd never have her.

"I promise," he finally whispered brokenly, turning his face away and closing his eyes. "I will obey. _Mother._" Somehow he managed to make that word sound like a curse, but Didyme wisely chose to ignore it. "You may let me up now."

Slowly, we got off him, Aro last, until Caius finally lay by himself on the tiles, staring blankly up at the ceiling. After a moment he got to his feet, swiftly as only one of our kind can, and faced us squarely. For the first time I looked at his face, seeking the changes that the transition to immortality brought.

He had been a handsome young man before, although his odd coloring had made him strange. Now, somehow, he seemed…natural. As if he had been made to be one of us. His face was perfected, the angles of jawline and cheekbone and brow chiseled as if from marble by a master's hand, his skin no longer an abnormal human white but a normal immortal marble, sparkling gently in the torchlight. He was beautiful, a young god, like us, albeit a cold and disdainful one. He had not lost any of his former indifference or arrogance: if anything, it was worse. He radiated it like the sun's rays.

Caius made a swift, formal vow. "Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Marcus, for giving me this gift," he said carefully as he straightened, then he caught my eye.

Then I knew that nothing had changed for the better, and that I had better watch my back, because Caius had my death in his eyes.

**3:3**

The three of us took Caius from the city to hunt, setting him loose in the farmlands south of Volterra. That night, at least five humans fell to Caius's thirst. He hunted like one bred for it, his instincts unerringly sharp. I couldn't help but be impressed by his vicious efficiency, despite my foreboding.

Didyme flitted along with Caius as he hunted, while Aro and I hung back, watching. Once Caius had landed his second victim, my adopted brother turned to glare at me.

"Well, you have certainly made a mess of this, haven't you, Marcus?" he spat, his tone acidic.

"I do not know what you mean, Aro."

He laughed mockingly. "Oh, do not play silly coy games with me, Marcus Domitius." He only used my second name when he was truly angry. "You know that boy means to have your wife. _My sister_. And he will do it by whatever means he can, and soon. You two have brought nothing but trouble to yourselves and to my house."

I sighed. Yes, I had known that, but Aro saying those words aloud somehow made it seem more real, more fearsome.

"I do not know what to do about it, Aro. Didyme loves him like a son, but he loves her like…Well, I suppose like me."

Aro rolled his eyes, sneering. "Yes, I suppose like you, indeed!" He crossed his arms and glared at me. "And what shall you do about it? Or should I say what shall _we _do about it?"

I glanced at him in surprise. "We?"

"Surely you did not think I would allow some upstart commoner to interfere with our lives that way, Marcus. Regardless of how much I opposed your relationship with Didyme before, she has been your wife for too long for me to continue in that feeling. You have treated her well, as I asked you. She, although the why is beyond my ken, is obviously mad for you. And you have been my brother for as long as you have been married to her. Of course my allegiance lies with you."

I was amazed. I had never felt Aro supported me in anything; it was always the reverse.

Aro sighed and clapped me on the shoulder, and I knew he was rifling through my thoughts. I tried very hard not to mind.

"I shall have a few words with young master Caius later, once he has slaked his thirst a bit. Then, I shall take him away with me, to put some space between you and Didyme and Caius. I can teach him as well as you, if not better, because here he would only be distracted by Didyme any jealousy."

"You're right. Thank you, Aro. I am in your debt."

He chuckled darkly, and his smile was slow and dark; I had a sudden sinking feeling that I had just stepped into a trap. Aro always wanted people indebted to him, he never made offers selflessly. This would cost me somewhere, somehow, sometime. And I had no idea what it might cost me…but I would pay it, if he would help solve this problem.

I could not, would not, lose my wife. I would pay any cost to avoid that.

"Yes, my brother, you are in my debt. But let's forget about that right now, shall we?" Aro looked down toward where we could see Caius at work and he smiled a little, almost indulgent. "He's making quite a job of it, isn't he?"

Caius had just taken a third victim: he had attacked a small family farm, one well away from others, and was steadily going through its members, with the obvious intention of leaving no one alive. Just as well, no witnesses.

It seemed he was taking to his new life very well indeed.

Caius and Aro left the next day, for parts unknown, with no return date. It was always like that when Aro traveled: he left when he wanted to, came back when he wanted to, and never revealed where he had gone. I never heard what Aro had spoken to Caius about, but the newborn went easily enough, with barely a word of protest or resentment at being treated like a child. Didyme and I watched them go after midnight, their white skin gleaming beneath the waning moon until they disappeared into the darkness.

She burrowed her face into my sleeve and sighed happily. "Just us for a while, then, eh, husband?" she whispered, and giggled wickedly. I tickled back. Then a mighty mock-battle erupted between us, we romped and scampered through the house like children, before shutting ourselves in our bedchamber for the next week.

**3:4**

Over the next year and a half, we received several letters from Aro and Caius. Or, to be more specific, the letters were from Aro, since Caius apparently never wanted to put quill to paper. It didn't dawn on me that he didn't know how to read or write until later, upon reading one of Aro's letters.

When a new missive came by courier it was always a bit exciting to slide the scroll out of the case and break the red wax seal. Didyme and I spent several evenings by the fireplace in Aro's library, puzzling over Aro's spidery Latin.

One letter, however, was particularly disturbing.

**Dear Ones** (Aro has always been a bit pretentious)**,**

**I hope this message finds you well and in good fortune. **

**Caius and I are recently come to Greece, Athens in particular, where I had the excellent fortune to engage the services of a very knowledgeable tutor to assist Caius in his studies when I am unable to personally oversee them. I cannot in good conscience allow him to remain unlearned, illiterate as the slave he once was, so I hope to return him to your loving bosoms well-taught in all the gentlemanly fields. I just hope that Caius refrains from killing the man long enough to learn to read and write passably.**

**I did have an unfortunate incident with Caius before we left Italia to travel to Greece, which I feel I should recount to you. **

**When we were in Perugia we came across the family of the blacksmith to whom Caius had previously belonged. Well, I suppose I should say that Caius sought them out, to be truthful. To make a long story short, he did exact some vengeance upon them, which did cause us to have to leave the area with some haste. I fear that young Caius shall have a fearsome reputation thereabouts from now on, they called him all kinds of names. A legend is born. I imagine the opportunity to be vindicated against those who caused the pain he suffered as a child was something he could not allow to pass. I should hope not.**

**He has become quite the immortal, completely lethal in every way, although he does listen well to my counsel for the most part. He has acquitted himself admirably as a newborn, I think. I have quite changed my opinion regarding Caius: I believe he is an excellent addition to our happy little family, and that we should indeed begin considering expanding more. I think Caius would benefit from some ****female**** company, specifically, to divert him from his previous unhealthy fixation on our darling Didyme.**

**Oh, and one other thing: the brothel he once was…employed…at has been burned to the ground. No one escaped. Terrible thing, the humans said. **

**Tell Didyme I have some lovely things to bring her. Greece is wonderful. You should join us, Cyprus in the summer is delightful.**

**Your Brother,**

**Aro.**

I sat with the scroll in my hands for a long time, watching the words dance across the parchment in the flickering firelight, my mind a million miles away. So he had exacted his revenge, as I had thought he might. I hoped it brought him some small measure of peace in the storm of rage and pain that he had endured for so long. The mention of needing to leave Perugia was bothersome, but not too much: after all, what could be expected?

Didyme cleared her throat; she had been laying on a chaise lounge near my chair, listening. "So, my brother thinks Caius could use some female companionship, does he?" Her eyes gleamed with the challenge. How I had underestimated her: I had never really thought she would relish the idea of being a mother, or being a matchmaker. But women will always be a mystery, even to immortals, who have eternity to figure them out, but never shall.

She clapped her hands together eagerly, smiling her wicked smile. "I shall start the hunt tomorrow." She got up and came to perch on the arm of my chair, dropping a kiss on my forehead, then dodged away with a giggle as I lunged to pull her down into my arms for more. "I shall find the perfect woman for Caius. And…perhaps…for Aro, too?"

I groaned and covered my eyes. "Didyme, don't meddle in your brother's affairs…"

She shook her finger in my face, then danced away again when I tried to grab her again. "Marcus Domitius, how often has Aro meddled in our affairs? I think we owe him a bit of meddling, don't you?" And she smiled dazzlingly at me as she finally settled down into my lap for a bit more kiss and a lot less talk.

I was lost. I always was, wrapped around her little finger like her ribbon twined around my wrist.

**3:5**

True to her word, Didyme vanished with the dawn the next morning, leaving her flowery scent as the only reminder that she'd been lying next to me the night before and the lingering burn of her kiss on my lips when she had bidden me goodbye. I had tried to dissuade her from her quest a few times, half-hearted efforts at best, but at least I could say I had tried—and Aro would see that in my thoughts the next time I touched him.

She was gone for over a month, which I spent poring through Aro's library and hunting in an effort to not be driven mad by the ache of her absence. I had a rare opportunity for solitude, but I found I disliked it. Without Didyme, the solitude became lonely, almost unbearable. So I threw myself into the books and Aro's piles of notes, trying to discern what he had been working on for so long.

Some notes he had written in normal Latin or Greek or Etruscan, the tongues we used regularly, others were in foreign languages which I did not know how to read at first, such as the cuneiform of Sumeria or the hieroglyphics of Egypt. And others still were in a strange code which I knew was Aro's own. Those were the ones I wished I could read the most: the ones he specifically closed to anyone but himself. The secrets he held close to his chest.

I was always stung by Aro's secretive nature. He lived in a world where there was no such thing as a secret from him: one touch, and he could hear every thought that ever passed through the mind. He had the very heart of the person in his hand…and he guarded that ability jealously, building a wall of crafty, cultured silence around him. No one got inside that wall. When he did choose to make known any of his thoughts and plans, it was as if he were a king, doling out favors to his lowly subjects, not that he was sharing anything.

I taught myself the strange languages and writing styles quickly. That is one benefit to the immortal mind: we have none of the fuzziness and retention problems mortals have with facts, and we are able to store and process information so much more rapidly and with greater complexity.

The oldest writings were, of course, the Sumerian things. Some were actual clay tablets, the symbols pressed into the clay when it had been wet with a wedge-shaped stylus; others were representations of older tablets on papyrus. They spoke of the gods of that place: Inanna and Tammuz and Enkil and such. I wondered why Aro would possibly be interested in such things. He seemed especially intent on discovering more about Tammuz and some person named Lillith, a former handmain of Inanna, his consort. Apparently Lillith had been sent away in shame. Now why would Aro care about such a story?

The Egyptians hieroglyphics were just as intriguing and confusing. There were accounts of their myriad gods and goddesses, but there was an emphasis on the worship of their goddess of war and blood, Sekhmet, or Sakhmet, depending on how you read the vowels symbols. And also, there again, were mentions of this woman Lillith…but the legends were more recent than those of Sumeria, as if she had been there first, and then moved to Egypt…

I sat a stack of parchment down onto the desk and rubbed my temples; I did not have a true headache, immortals never got sick or felt pain except from a wound, but I felt as if a tight band of tension had been wound about my head, compressing my skull, as I pondered those papers and books. What did it all mean?

Why would Aro be studying ancient mythology? What interest did he have in this Lillith?

I shuffled back through the pages until I found one in particular, which I had been puzzling over for several minutes before putting it aside in frustration.

_**And so it came to pass:**_

_**That Lillith, daughter of Sumer, handmaiden of Inanna the Fair, came forth from the headwaters of the ancient lands, changed by the touch of Tammuz, despoiled and shamed.**_

_**She did come to serve Sekhmet, the glorious huntress, the heavenly warrior queen, in blood and in fire, and after many years she did betray her faithful mistress. Cast forth from the holy lands of Egypt, the cold one did wander, homeless, bereft, cursed for all eternity.**_

_Cold one? _

I shook my head and sighed and pushed it away again.

There were also books in Greek and Latin, and even some in African and Asian tongues, which I did not put forth any effort into translating. I was thoroughly confused and tired of puzzling things out, and I decided to confront Aro with my questions when he came back. He would know them anyway, the moment he took my hand in greeting, so it would just be a matter of formalizing the conversation, and making him answer me.

Aro had talked so much of power and ruling, of taking the city of Volterra and even more for ourselves, ruling from the shadows, pulling the strings. Yes, we had accomplished much in the past century living there, but nothing monumental. We received some tribute, we had greatly expanded our wealth and influence, we owned several successful businesses, but the humans mostly believed we were a family that had lived in that house for years. We never went out together, and when we did go out at all it was alone, at night, and dressed carefully. The current opinion was that Didyme was the granddaughter of the original woman who had taken ownership of the house, that I was a cousin or some such, that Aro was a distant relative. He came and went so sporadically and secretively that no one knew much about him at all.

I was almost ready to burn the stack of notes in a fit of pique when I heard her footsteps coming down the hall, and she was not alone. Two other sets of footsteps padded along behind her, timid and light. My dead heart seemed to leap inside me for joy. Didyme!

The library door opened with a sigh and there she was, her golden hair catching the firelight, her smile brighter than the sun. She threw herself into my arms with a squeal of delight, kissing me breathlessly, her little fingers wound tightly in my hair, as if she were afraid to let go.

"Oh, my beloved, I have missed you so!" she gasped between kisses, her eyes closed, her long lashes fluttering against her alabaster cheeks. "I shall never, ever leave you like that again, no matter the reason!"

I kissed her back savagely, and was preparing to take her to our chambers right that moment when she pulled back suddenly, eyes wide with excitement. "I have brought presents, Marcus! Come and see!"

She pulled herself out of my arms and took my hand, leading me toward the library door. Out in the hallway I saw them, two women, heads covered by hoods, their tunicas and pallas long and spotless and richly cut. Didyme reached out and beckoned them into the room impatiently. "Come now, don't be shy, come meet your new brother-in-law-to-be!"

The women shuffled into the firelight and stood silently, clinging to each other as if terrified. I wondered if Didyme had lost her mind, bringing them home with her.

"Marcus, this is Athenodora." Didyme reached out and, without waiting for permission, pushed back the first, smaller woman's cowl, revealing her face.

She was lovely, obviously Greek by hr name, her cheekbones high and elegantly slanted, her nose aquiline, her forehead high and noble. But instead of the vivid Greek coloring I would have expected, her skin was powdery-pale, like Caius's had been before the change, and her eyes...Her eyes were a pink identical to Caius's. Her hair tumbled down around her face in lush tangles of tightly-wound curls, white as snow, but it did not make her seem older; she was not more than fourteen then, and terrified, biting her lower lip and twisting her small, white hands together convulsively. She was an albino, like Caius. I could only assume Didyme had chosen her for him.

"And this," Didyme murmured, reaching over to push the other woman's hood back, "is Sulpicia."

Sulpicia was fair as well, but not like Athenodora's bleached palette. She, too, was beautiful. She was Roman, her nose proud, her lips full and sensual, her dark brown eyes fringed with thick lashes, her skin a rosy peach that darkened as she flushed under my considering gaze. Her hair was straight and a sunny gold, lighter than my Didyme's, but was bound tightly in a proper Roman woman's coif. What struck me most about her was her bold gaze: despite the blush, she looked right back at me, unashamed, although I knew she was afraid, I could hear her heart pounding. She held herself rigidly straight and arrogance and superiority radiated from her every line.

In short, she was perfect for Aro, I would think, if he wanted someone like him.

"So, husband, what do you think?" Didyme whispered, leaning back against me, her hands finding my wrist and running her tiny fingers round and round the red ribbon there. "Have I chosen well?"

I chuckled, leaning my head down to kiss her at the tender junction of neck and shoulder. She shivered deliciously at the touch of my lips and her fingers clenched around mine fiercely; I knew I had a long, pleasurable night before me.

"I do not know yet, wife, they have yet to speak a word…and they have yet to be one of us. How do we know that their intended betrothed will want them for anything besides an evening snack?"

Athenodora trembled, her eyes wide and terrified; Sulpicia snorted and rolled her eyes to look away, but I saw her pull her arms tight against her body, as if she were cold. No, not cold: frightened. Didyme laughed and the sound was like a chorus of crystal bells.

"Oh, Marcus, I am sure Caius and Aro shall be immensely pleased at the wonderful companions I have chosen for them. You know I have excellent taste." She turned to face me and touched the tip of my nose. "After all, I chose you, the common rose among all the well-bred weeds I was offered."

I closed my eyes and remembered her as a girl: bright as a beam of sunlight, and just as warm. Now, she was cooler, like a moonbeam, but never had a woman been so beautiful, or so wonderful.

"This common rose is pleased to have been plucked," I murmured, bringing her hand to my lips to kiss. She shivered again and slipped her free hand up and around my neck, pulling my face down to hers, a low purring growl beginning in her breast. We quite forgot about the two women standing before us, we were lost in each other. We had a month's worth of loving to make up for and I didn't care who saw it.

"Ahem."

Irritated, I looked up to see Sulpicia glaring at us. "You have brought us here, you should at least give us the courtesy of providing us with a place to sleep, don't you think? And some proper food?" Her voice was low and pleasant, cultured, but with an edge to it. She was used to being listened to, being served and obeyed.

I wondered if this was actually a good choice.

Would Aro want a subservient, smiling, silent woman, to listen to him and pet him and admire him? Or would he prefer a woman like him, proud and arrogant? I loved everything about Didyme, but I knew she was so many things I was not: where I was quiet and retiring, she was gay and forward, and many more things. I had heard that opposites attract, but I knew it wasn't a hard and fast rule: and besides, love is what love is, one does not choose the one you love, love chooses you. I supposed I just needed to wait. After all, if Aro rejected her, we'd consume her and then Didyme would try to find him someone else…if he didn't manage to finally dissuade her from that particular fool's errand.

Didyme laughed again and called for the housekeeper, who came and escorted the women to the guest chambers. They went slowly, reluctantly, glancing back over their shoulders at us, as if afraid of being away from us. But finally, I was alone in the study with my wife, and I was glad when I was able to close the door and have her all to myself again.

Later, lolling on the rug before the fireplace, I asked her where she had found the women.

She grinned and propped her chin on her hands; she lay on her stomach, her feet crossed at the ankles, quite nude, and quite spectacular in the warm glow of the firelight. I had to fight to keep my attention on her words.

"Well, I found Athenodora in a slave auction, of course. She's Greek, after all. She was originally from Mycenae, her family was brought over to Italia when the city was razed the most recent time. She's very intelligent, but very shy: her kind is always ostracized. She was working as a laundress when I found her, poor thing, her hands were like raw meat. I saw her from a rooftop I'd taken to for the day, to avoid the humans, and when I realized that she was like Caius…Well, I felt as if they would be good together. I felt even more so after I'd taken her and had a chance to speak with her. She's quite sweet, not an unkind bone in her body, and grateful and eager for the chance for a new life." She turned over and crossed her legs at the knee, gesturing as she spoke; again, I lost my concentration at the sight of her breasts and belly caressed by the firelight, and had to fight to follow her words.

"Sulpicia I found in Rome, of course. That kind of arrogance is only possible there. Excellent family, well-educated, oldest daughter, about to be married to some brute forty years older than she." Didyme laughed. "I completely understood her plight. After all, I barely missed such a fate myself!"

I couldn't resist kissing her again, and one thing led to another…It was another hour or so before her mouth was free for speaking again.

"I met her in the market one afternoon. It was raining so I dared to be out in the daylight, but when I saw her face I knew there was something special, so I followed her home. I wondered why such a well-bred young girl would be out, unescorted, in that part of the city: it's just not done, normally. A girl like that hardly ventures out in public, much less alone. So there was a curiosity factor at first."

Didyme grimaced. "I came to her in their house garden. It's much like ours. I found her there late at night; she'd stolen out to sit in the moonlight, and she was crying. I had to find out why, you know how curious I am…So, I jumped down from the roof into the garden." She chuckled and rolled her eyes ruefully.

"I should have been more conscious of the effect my…hmmm…_arrival_ might have on her. I haven't been human in so long, it's sometimes hard to remember how to act appropriately around them. Sulpicia screamed like she was being murdered, so I had to do something. So I took her. I just picked her up—she was quite frozen in shock, except for her mouth, of course! Then I jumped back up to the roof and took off across the city, trying to put some distance between us and her house."

I couldn't help myself, I had to laugh. The image of my tiny wife sprinting from rooftop to rooftop, lugging a screaming Sulpicia, was too much. She punched me half-heartedly on the arm.

"Do you want me to go on or not? Or would you rather laugh at me?"

I clamped my mouth shut to stifle the laughter and nodded for her to continue.

"Anyway," she started, shaking her head a bit in disapproval, "Finally I managed to get her to stop her silly shrieking and set her down. I'd gone all the way from the Capitoline Hill and crossed the Tiber, after all!

"She knew I was different, and she was afraid of me, but strangely she didn't want to go back home, after she'd recovered from the fright. When I asked her why, she told me: she'd been betrothed to a much older man, one who had already buried five other wives in the pursuit of a male heir…and never one. The man must be impotent."

I snorted with laughter and guiltily covered my mouth with my hands when she glared at me.

"When I offered her the chance to come away with me, to be immortal, she jumped at it, even though I warned her Aro might not accept her. Even if he doesn't, I think she will still make an excellent immortal, don't you?"

I shrugged. "We shall see, won't we?"

And then I made sure talking was over. We had a month to make up for.

Later, in the drowsy, delicious glow that the moments after lovemaking bring, I couldn't help but think.

So many things to think about. So many things running through my head, warring for my attention.

Caius's obsession with Didyme: would anything come of it, or would Aro's plan work? Would they accept the brides Didyme had chosen for them? What was Aro planning? What was my role in this, and Didyme's? We were inseparable now, the three of us…now the four of us? Would Caius, and perhaps Athenodora and Sulpicia become part of our family, part of the web that connected us to each other?

Twisted, tangled, intertwined, all of our lives, encircling and binding one another…like the ribbon about my wrist.

_***__**Author's Note:**__ The references to Lillith aren't accidental. To learn more about her, and the origin of the vampires, see my story The Mother: The Ballad of Lillith. Also you will learn more about Stefan and Vladimir, the mysterious Romanians._

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5514111/1/The_Mother_The_Ballad_of_Lillith


	4. Chapter 4: Metamorphoses

**Chapter 4: Metamorphoses **

And so what now, my young friend? Oh, yes, you will be wanting to hear more about the wives, and how it all came about, I suppose? All right then. This tale is not so sad to tell.

The next several months passed swiftly, for our little household had expanded and was now full of excitement.

We allowed the two young women some time to themselves for the first few days. We did not restrict their comings and goings, but neither one wanted much to do with the world outside their chamber doors at first. Though they had chosen to go with Didyme, and knew somewhat what was to be their future, it was still overwhelming. Sulpicia was the first one to emerge, hesitantly coming down to the kitchen five days after my wife brought her home.

I had been out hunting; I went to the kitchen to wash my hands and drop off the deer I'd netted for the household. Of course I didn't just hunt for humans for myself, I also hunted _for_ my humans as well, since slaves do have to eat.

I found Sulpicia sitting at the small table the slaves ate around, nibbling at a piece of bread. Her dark eyes darted everywhere around the room, especially seeming drawn to me. She would glance at me and then look away, flustered, as if curious about me but ashamed of her curiosity.

I indulged her and looked away as I rinsed the blood from my hands in a basin, but I could feel the prickle of her eyes upon my back. I knew why she stared at me, I knew how strange I looked to her human eyes as I came into the sun-bright kitchen, glittering like diamonds, blood on my hands…and easily carrying a huge four-point buck over my shoulder, as if it were a feather pillow.

After a moment I turned and smiled at her, as easily as I could manage—although an immortal's most gentle smile can be disconcerting for mortals—and bade her good morning. "Have you been comfortable? Lacked anything?" I had been trained to be a good host, something that was vitally important in the ancient world: hospitality was sacred, the guest sacred.

Sulpicia swallowed convulsively, her fingers nervously shredding the bread into a pile of crumbs. She glanced down at it, surprised, after a moment, then back up at me. "No, no, everything has been fine…sir." She had a very cultured voice, low and pleasant.

I nodded. "Well, if you have anything to say, or need anything, you should have no fear to ask me, or my wife. And of course, if you have questions…" I managed awkwardly. How exactly does one talk to someone like her: a mortal woman not my wife. That was something not done in those days under normal circumstances, unmarried or unrelated men and women rarely spoke according to the rules of propriety. It had been difficult for me to even say good morning to her. Of course, she was potentially going to be my sister-in-law…but she could also potentially be his meal. There was no way to tell.

She nodded mutely and looked away from me again. I could hear her racing heartbeat, indicating her fear. Then something seized me, and I did something I still do not completely understand to this day.

"Do not worry, I promise no harm shall come to you in this house, lady." I do not know exactly why I decided that, but the words came tumbling from my lips before I could really think it through.

I sighed resignedly: I would have to honor that promise, even if it meant going head-to-head with Aro, if she were still human upon his return. I do not break promises, even those given without thought. "Speak freely, have no fear."

Her eyes widened in surprise, her lower jaw dropping just a bit, before she suddenly seemed to realize how vulnerable she appeared, how fearful she must look. In an instant she'd regained control: she straightened in her chair, shoulders back, chin lifted, and she nodded coolly, completely the patrician lady once more, looking down that noble nose at me.

"Thank you, sir."

I chuckled and left without a word.

Oh yes, she would be a good match for Aro, although perhaps not the match he would have picked for himself. I thought that my wife might be good at the matchmaking business.

I found Didyme, of course, in her garden.

At first, I couldn't see her, I could only hear her, smell her, humming to herself somewhere above me. Then I looked up and saw her. She was perched on the edge of the atrium roof opening, her bare legs dangling into empty space as she trimmed the riotous evening primrose vines that had scaled the trellises she'd built: they were spreading out across the flat roof of the house. She was wearing an indecently short tunic. I loved it.

"Good morning, husband!" she called down to me, smiling brightly. The morning sunlight backlit her, turning her hair into a fiery golden corona around her shadowed face; all I could see were her brilliant red eyes and her gleaming white smile. "Coming up or shall I come down?"

I laughed and wiped my forehead theatrically. "Come down here. I'm tired from the hunt."

Then she was before me, rolling her eyes, dropping down from the roof with the unconscious grace of a hunting cat. "Pshaw. As if you ever get tired."

We laughed together until she silenced it with a much-welcomed kiss.

"So," Didyme murmured, twining her fingers through mine, "Has either of those silly girls come out of their rooms yet?"

I nodded and pushed a lock of her hair back from her face. "Sulpicia. She was in the kitchen a moment ago. She seemed nervous." I shook my head in frustration and drew Didyme down to sit on one of the benches with me. "I made an impulsive promise to her, love. I told her I would protect her, that no harm would come to her here."

She laughed, a sound all sunshine and silver bells. "Why on earth would you say something like that?"

"I have no idea. It just…well, it just slipped out." I pursed my lips in thought. "I disliked the idea of her being afraid in my home. I suppose it was the old hospitality instinct your father drilled into my head so long ago. It wouldn't be seemly for a guest to be murdered and consumed in my home when I've welcomed them, don't you think?"

Didyme's little chuckle turned into a full-blown belly laugh; she bent over her knees, her whole body shaking with the force of it.

"Only—_you_—would ever think—like that!" she finally gasped. "Guaranteeing a human safety! Against your brother? Are you just looking for a good fight?"

I had to join her in the laughter. It was a bit ridiculous. But it was done, and I had to honor it.

After a few moments the hilarity had died down. "So what do you think, then, Marcus? Should we change them before Aro and Caius come home? I suppose changing them first would help you keep your promise, after all!" She glanced at me teasingly.

I considered her question for a moment. "I think that is best left up to the ladies themselves, love. We should ask them how they want to do it. Perhaps, if Aro or Caius refuses one of them and they are still human, they could return home?"

Her sweet mouth twisted into a little grimace. "No, darling, I doubt it. Neither of those girls wants to see their homes ever again, believe me."

I nodded. "Well, still, it's a decision best left to them, I think. Let them make their choice and live with it. Perhaps being prepared for it ahead of time will help them deal with it better."

She agreed. "So the next question is, when?" She reached out and plucked a sprig of honeysuckle, inhaling the fragrance of the flower and smiling. "At least Sulpicia has left her room. Athenodora is much more timid. I think I shall have to actually drag her from her room."

I thought about pale, oddly pretty, shy Athenodora and wondered what kind of immortal she would make. Perhaps she might find a side of herself that she'd never known before, the powerful and strong side. "Perhaps."

Didyme slapped my knee playfully. "Well, I shall do exactly that this evening, then, if she hasn't emerged on her own. Cut her from her cocoon, I will!" She brandished something, the pruning shears she'd been using on the vines and had stuck into her girdle earlier, for emphasis. "No clinging vines here! Only the bright, brave, and strong shall be among us!"

She looked like the Nike, the winged victory…or at least what that statue had looked like prior to losing its head and arms. Glittering like the finest marble, arms akimbo, chin lifted proudly like Sulpicia's had been earlier, her smile brilliant in the bright morning sunlight.

Gods above, how I loved her. Even without her gift, I know I would have loved her devotedly for all of eternity…And I have. I will.

"I shall see you at sundown in Aro's library, then, Marcus?"

"Of course."

Didyme dropped a quick kiss on my forehead and caressed my cheek. "I should go hunt. Being in the room with them sets my teeth on edge!" She reached up and twisted her long hair up into a knot, something she did when she hunted, so those curls didn't get snagged on branches or in some poor hapless human's grasping fingers. "Athenodora especially is like a sip of water to a man dying of thirst, isn't she? Gods, what a scent!"

I nodded grimly. Indeed, both women smelled exceptionally good. Over the years I have theorized, if that is something indicative of a human's potential to be a "good" immortal: all of the immortals that I have known before their change were amazingly tempting, they smelled divine.

"So I am away, my love!" And she was gone, leaving me to my thoughts amid her flowers.

True to my word, I was in Aro's library, well before sundown. I had gone back to puzzling over Aro's notes.

I thought I had actually begun to unravel the odd little cipher that he used to write his most private things. It was a code that combined traits of several others, substitutions of letters or syllables or sometimes whole words, various languages and scripts, some made-up symbols which I had to simply guess over.

Then it sprang into amazing clarity in an instant, when I realized that the whole thing was written backwards. I had to hold a mirror up to it at first until my brain accepted how to turn everything around without it, but I could read it perfectly.

The first sheaf of notes, bound in a hide folder together, was a series of notes regarding our kind's abilities and characteristics, and descriptions of other immortals. Nothing to too mysterious, I supposed: he'd been observing others of our kind for quite some time, noting their names, locations, and whether they had unusual abilities.

There was a pile of scrolls, numbered chronologically, detailing our lives since we'd been changed, beginning with Aro's transformation, and ending shortly before Aro and Caius had left together. I glanced through them and had to roll my eyes and shake my head many times at Aro's overweening arrogance, as he described his various conquests and accomplishments.

Strangely, though, the first scroll did not mention any details about who had changed him, beginning this whole account: there was only one short line.

"**The Mother took me while I was hunting." **

The Mother?

I sifted through the scrolls again, looking for more about whoever this person was, and found nothing.

Then I opened the small, red-leather-bound book that Aro used as his personal journal. Most of it was a more detailed account of his daily events, especially when traveling. I wondered why he hadn't taken it with him when he left. But a few phrases jumped out at me.

"**I have only met her once, but I shall find her again someday, for I have many questions to ask her. The Mother of us all. She was the first, the greatest, older than old, and I shall have her knowledge. Without it, I cannot accomplish my goal: to rule."**

That was not too surprising; I knew Aro lusted for power. But what kind of knowledge would this Mother have that would help him get what he wanted? I read on, thumbing through the pages, until I found more.

"**I have found her name: Lillith. And I know from whence she came: Sumeria, a thousand years ago, or more. I know she was once human like me, but something changed her, not another immortal. When she was created, something altogether new was formed. What that catalyst was, and why, I do not know. But I shall find out, if I must perish in the attempt."**

Aha! I said to myself. That was what all the ancient legends and mythology had been about.

_Lillith._

I shivered, though I hadn't been cold in over a century: the name had an ancient and sad feel to it, as if whatever this Mother had gone through so many years ago still remained in the very sound of her name.

"**I am so close! Europa, she was last seen in Europa. Carpathia. I shall find her yet!"**

That was the last mention, on the last page that Aro had written on.

I closed the journal and placed it back onto the table, then leaned back in the chair, looking up and considering the ceiling for a moment.

I was at an impasse. I knew that Aro would know at the first touch of our hands that I had deciphered his code and read his secrets; I rather thought he had left these things out almost as a challenge to me, seeing whether I would trespass in such a way. That was Aro's way: lay the trap and wait for it to be sprung. He wasn't one for a frontal assault or straightforward dealings. He was sly, crafty, and always made sure he had the upper hand in any situation.

I also thought about him traveling with Caius. Yes, Aro's reasons for taking Caius away had been good ones, and I did not think Aro had been lying about that part. But I did know Aro well enough to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he always had multiple reasons for what he did, layer upon layer of thoughts and plans and scheming, like an onion.

What was he doing with the boy out in the world? Was he turning Caius into his disciple, ingratiating himself to the youngster in an effort to create his first true follower? Was he instilling his personal values into Caius—although based on my knowledge of Caius's temperament, it wouldn't be difficult. Caius had the kind of personality that Aro would identify with, cold and challenging.

I hoped that Aro accomplished what he'd ostensibly set out to do: convince Caius that his worship of Didyme and his resentment of me was hopeless, that he should pin his hopes elsewhere.

I did not relish the thought of them coming home. The future seemed too unstable and unsure. Too many unknown variables, too many "what-if's."

The door opened quietly behind me, and the sweet scent of my wife came to me, and with it the scents of the two mortal women. I heard the sounds of their quickened breathing and rapidly-beating hearts, spurred on by their fear and trepidation, as they surely must be wondering what lay ahead for them.

"Good evening, my love," Didyme murmured, kissing the top of my head. I hadn't bothered turning around or standing up, not wanting to overwhelm the humans by towering over them. "I have brought our guests for our little talk."

I reached up and cupped her cheek in my hand for a moment. "And did you have to use your shears to cut Athenodora out of that cocoon?" I whispered teasingly.

She giggled. "Almost. Snip-snip."

Then, "All right, ladies, come in then, no mooning about in the hallway like ghosts."

Again, I marveled at the change Didyme went through every time she shifted into her managerial mode, becoming so forceful and sure of herself, as if no one would think to question her. It was amazingly appealing.

I wondered absently if she might try that voice, later, when we were alone…

Didyme ushered the young women to the other side of Aro's big table and pressed them into chairs, then came to perch on the arm of mine, leaning back against me casually. "Shall I begin, or would you like to, husband?"

I found it hard to think about anything but taking her to bed, right then.

Concealed by the table, I reached down and lifted the hem of her gown, which was unfortunately much longer than the short tunica she'd worn that morning in the garden. Still thinking about that commanding voice of hers, I ran one finger up the inside of her ankle, up the curve of her calf, gently tickling the sensitive skin behind her knee, then up the silken line of the inside of her thigh…

She shuddered, her breath caught a little in her throat.

"Stop that right this instant, or I shall…I shall spend the night _sewing_!" Didyme hissed out of the corner of her mouth, her jaw clenched, but her lips still smiled gracefully at the girls: they couldn't hear her, she'd pitched those words to my ears only.

I gave her calf a reluctant squeeze then withdrew my hand dutifully.

"Good boy. I shall reward you appropriately, later," she whispered, running her own finger across my lap…

I chuckled and had to focus very, very intensely on what she said afterward.

"Well, ladies," Didyme said placidly, as if nothing had happened at all, "Obviously you chose to come here with me. You know you are intended as wives for my brother, Aro or our newest family member, my foster-son, Caius."

They both nodded slightly. Sulpicia was doing her best to appear nonchalant, a bored expression on her face, but her true feelings were betrayed by the racing pulse at her throat. Athenodora did not try to appear anything but what she was: terrified, but determined. She blinked constantly, as if holding back tears, and she washed her hands together in her lap nervously.

"The question at hand, now, ladies, is not whether you shall become one of our kind, but _when_." Didyme glanced down at me, and I nodded encouragingly for her to continue. "It seems my husband has promised you protection, Sulpicia, and I can only assume that his gallantry would extend to Athenodora as well?" The last was directed at me; I nodded again.

"My opinion of the matter is that both of you girls should allow yourselves to be changed as soon as possible. The longer you have to adjust to the new life before meeting Aro and Caius the better, I think. Also, you should probably already be immortal because you are both terribly appealing as humans, and if they arrive thirsty you would be in danger of becoming a snack, instead of a wife."

Athenodora looked as if she might faint; Sulpicia blanched and looked down at her lap, swallowing convulsively.

"So," Didyme continue briskly, "You have a choice before you. I would urge you to decide quickly, as we have no idea when Caius and Aro will be returning."

Sulpicia nodded faintly, licking her lips nervously, seeming deep in thought. Then she lifted her head and looked at Didyme directly, took a long breath, and said, "I want it now."

I blinked in surprise, glancing up at Didyme, who seemed just as taken aback. She looked back at me for a moment and shook her head microscopically.

"Well, um, yes, I applaud your decision, Sulpicia, but I think we will need a day or so to make the, um, preparations…" She punched my leg underneath the table. "Isn't that true, Marcus? Tomorrow afternoon, I think , would be better?"

I took the hint. I wanted our night together as well: there was no way we could manage any private time while having to serve as nursemaids to a wild newborn.

"Yes. Tomorrow."

Sulpicia nodded again and glanced toward Athenodora, who sat stock-still, her eyes wide and blank as she thought of the decision before her. I knew she'd made up her mind about becoming one of us, but the immediacy of this decision was what was staggering her.

"And what of you, Athenodora?" Didyme asked softly.

The pale girl looked up and seemed to see us for the first time with a little start. "I…I do not know, mistress," she finally whispered. "I do not know which is best, whether to take the gift now, or to wait and see if my lord Caius approves of me…" She frowned a little, her brows knitting together. "I should hate to assign myself immortality and then be rejected, to be forever sad."

Didyme snorted derisively. "Child, if he refuses you, he's more a fool than I judged him for, and it reflects nothing upon you." She leaned over the table toward Athenodora and reached out to touch her cheek; the girl flinched a bit from my wife's cold touch, but did not pull away entirely. "But if you feel that way, then you should wait as long as you need. This is not an existence for those who do not want it. It is impossible to undo, after all."

Athenodora smiled faintly, relieved that she did not have to confront her fear immediately. "Thank you for understanding, my lady."

Didyme smiled back and leaned against my chest again; I felt her wicked little fingers begin their own path around my right knee, circling teasingly, and then up the length of my thigh, with agonizing slowness.

"All right then, ladies, to your beds. Especially you, Sulpicia. You have a big day tomorrow. This is the last night of sleep for you, so go treasure your dreams, there shall be no more."

The young women left without a word, and closed the study door behind them.

Immediately Didyme was on me, straddling my lap in the chair, her body hard against mine, her lips pressed against my ear, her hair cascading around my face, a curtain of lavender-scented golden curls.

"Take me to bed now, husband, for we shan't have much time for this soon." Her voice was low and hard and commanding, sending a thrill through my body, lighting every nerve afire. She shifted her hips to settle down atop me more firmly, and her teeth grazed my neck as she nipped her way down toward my shoulders, those clever hands busy below…

"_Now_."

Let no one ever say I was not an obedient husband.

We managed to steal every moment of the next several hours for ourselves, not emerging from our chambers until the sun set once more the next day.

Sulpicia was waiting for us in the garden. She sat carefully, her back perfectly straight with that patrician posture, her hands folded carefully in her lap. She was excited and frightened, I could tell, from the pulsing of the delicate veins of her neck, but she was managing it with an iron will. That kind of self-control boded well for how she might take to the new life, I thought hopefully.

Oh, how wrong I was.

The whole process was much the same as for Caius, although she screamed quite a bit less than he had. That time, Didyme did the honors as far as who did the biting; I was bemused by her jealousy at the thought of my laying my lips on another woman's flesh, but I had to admit I was relieved to be spared that duty. Sulpicia smelled so much better than Caius had, and it had been a while since I'd fed; I was thirsty again, much more so after the last day spent closeted with my wife.

On the third day, Sulpicia was reborn in the thunderous silence of the moment her heart stopped beating. The coolly noble young woman she had been was gone, at least for a time, replaced with a glittering, ruby-eyed fiend. I barely managed to keep her from slaying the whole household of slaves, she was so very fast! I remembered how Didyme had been in those first days and months, a bloodthirsty little tornado of a girl, and Sulpicia was much worse.

Didyme had to take her away. "I know I promised, my love, but I must be the one to do it. You must stay here with Athenodora, in case my brother and Caius come home, to keep your promise to protect her, after all."

I kissed her hard and let her go with the deepest regret, but I knew she was right.

Athenodora and I watched the two of them disappear over the garden wall, me impassive but sad, she wide-eyed with disbelief and dread at Sulpicia's change.

I thought back over the past several days as I studied Athenodora.

She had stayed with Sulpicia during the whole time of the transformation, holding her hands, wiping her forehead and neck as the girl sweated and thrashed in the effects of the venom.

I hadn't realized how fond Athenodora was for Sulpicia; I knew Athenodora was frightened of the obvious agony her friend was in, but she stayed anyway. I could see the strength of the bond that she felt for her friend, but I could also see that it was much weaker the other way around: Sulpicia did not love Athenodora the way she was loved in return. I thought that a great deal of that inequality was due to the fact that Sulpicia viewed Athenodora as below her.

That steadfast devotion had been nicely repaid when Sulpicia nearly ripped the other girl's head off a few moments after she opened her new eyes.

Only Didyme had managed to deflect her when Sulpicia launched herself across the room at Athenodora, who had been frozen like a mouse transfixed by a serpent, unable to move to escape in her fear.

When she'd been denied her intended prey, Sulpicia had shrieked like the damned and burst out of the room we'd kept her in, seeking out blood, any blood, anything to slake that horrid, jagged thirst. She'd overtaken three of the slaves, poor things, sleeping in their beds. At least they hadn't seen her coming: a sight fit for a human nightmare, I imagine, with her flaming eyes and hair wild.

Didyme and I had wrestled her to the ground with some difficulty: despite her slight build, she was incredibly strong, as we all were in the beginning, and she did not want to be bound.

"Let me go!" she screamed, thrashing against me. "It burns! My throat, it burns!"

I shook my head and pulled her tighter against me as I stood up: I had my arms around her, her back to my chest, holding her arms fast to her sides. She managed to kick my shins mightily, all the while struggling to break my grip.

"No, Sulpicia, you must control yourself! Calm down!" I thundered.

She hissed at me, clawing at me.

Then Didyme stepped in and slapped the girl so hard her entire head snapped back, then she did it again.

"He. Said. Calm. _Down_!"

She emphasized every word with another blow, left, right, left, right, Sulpicia's head rocked back and forth by the slaps. I was stunned, I had never seen Didyme strike anyone, except during her hunts.

Finally Sulpicia subsided, her eyes still wheeling wildly, but she stopped thrashing and nodded, although a low growl still rumbled from her chest.

"I swear to the gods, Sulpicia, if you do not stop fighting us and listen to me, obey me, I shall kill you as easily as I created you, do you understand me?"

Didyme leaned forward until her nose almost touched Sulpicia's, and I had never seen my beautiful, gay, sweet wife look more frightening. She gave me pause: she was, indeed, a mighty little monster, and I was glad she was on my side.

"And I shall not regret it one instant if I kill you. I promise you that."

Sulpicia nodded again, her eyes a bit calmer, huge with intimidation. She knew Didyme was completely serious. Although new to this life, she valued it: I knew how that felt, those first incredibly overwhelming minutes and hours, where everything seems so vivid and precious.

"Good." Didyme took a step back, her lips tight in a grim little smile. "You must always remember that we know better than you, Sulpicia. You asked for this life. We gave you what you asked for, and now you must listen to what we tell you to do, if you're to be worth the trouble we have taken to bring you here."

I felt Sulpicia tremble a little, probably with a combination of dread and thirst. I could smell Athenodora somewhere nearby, probably hiding behind the door, listening.

"Now," Didyme murmured, reaching out to gently touch the cheek she'd just slapped a moment before, "Can you be a good girl and stay still if Marcus lets you go? You won't try to run off again, or do anything…untoward?"

Sulpicia took a shaky breath. "Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, I promise. I'll…I'll be good."

Didyme nodded at me, and I carefully, slowly, let Sulpicia go.

Once I had stepped away, Didyme took my hand and stood beside me, leaning her head against my arm. "Lovely, isn't she?" she murmured up at me. "I knew she would be. She's perfect for Aro."

I had to admit she was right. Immortality suited Sulpicia, who stood motionless before us, her flaming eyes wondering at everything around her with the fascination of one reborn, seeing things in a completely different way. Her face, very pretty before, had been perfected: she looked like a statue of Hera, the wife of Zeus, king of the gods, every line and plane of her well-bred face elegant and strong at the same time. That inborn elegance had stayed, not even the newborn frenzy could completely disguise it, in the way she stood straight and proud, her long, pale hair unbound and flowing down her back like a river of platinum.

I felt a sharp little elbow jab me in the ribs. "Don't look too carefully, husband, or it shall be _you_ that I shred and burn," Didyme hissed under her breath at me.

I choked back my laughter, especially when Sulpicia spun around to stare at us. I had forgotten she could hear as well as we could now. Didyme glared up at me, then at Sulpicia.

"Oh, please, my love, as if I could ever love anyone but you." I had kissed her then.

She sighed against my lips. "I know. But still."

Then I heard Sulpicia hiss and felt the air move as the girl sprung over us, toward the door, which I knew Athenodora was hiding behind.

The hinges groaned and the wood splintered in the face of Sulpicia's attack, and I heard Athenodora scream; I whipped around and bolted after Sulpicia, Didyme hot on my heels.

We barely made it in time: once again, Sulpicia lunged for the other girl, knocking her against the wall, and only Didyme's wild grab for her stopped her advance, carrying her to the floor with a mighty crash, growling and hissing filling the air.

I scooped Athenodora up and ran with her, carrying her away, anywhere, someplace where she could be safe while my wife dealt with Sulpicia. For once not drawing away from my cold, hard strangeness, she clung to me and wept into my shoulder, almost unconscious with fear. I knew she was hurting, bruised but not broken, and thankfully no bleeding. I knew we would never have been able to stop Sulpicia if Athenodora shed any blood.

I settled on the little chamber we had changed Caius in, which had no windows and only one door. "Stay here for a little while, I'll come back for you when it is safe," I said into her ear before shoving the shaking, sobbing Athenodora into the room and locked the door behind me, then ran to join Didyme. I knew she couldn't hold a newborn for long on her own.

It didn't take me long to find them, all I had to do was follow the screeches and growls and crashes of their battle.

It was a sight, the two women squared off against one another. Didyme was actually smaller than Sulpicia, but she fought with the grace and skill of a born warrior, something I had never quite understood. She had years of experience in her immortal body on her side, and the wisdom to use it in the face of Sulpicia's fresh, raw strength. They were both a mess, hair everywhere, their clothing torn. There was an indecent amount of very enticing flesh showing; I had to remind myself to look away from the sight of Sulpicia's exposed legs.

I wasted little time in taking her down, I simply leaped at her, carrying her to the ground with me, pinning her down with the weight of my body. She spit and struggled like a wet cat, clawing at me. Didyme came and sat down atop my back, and then she did something I remembered from months before, when Caius had been doing the same thing: she touched Sulpicia's hand, and she made her love her.

This time, though, it wasn't _that_ kind of love. I suppose she could have caused those kinds of feelings in the other woman; I think since Caius already was infatuated with Didyme, her urging him to love her naturally went in that direction. But this time I watched Sulpicia's eyes soften and grow sad as she looked up at my wife, as if she realized she'd horribly wronged her best friend, her sister, her closest companion.

"I'm so sorry," Sulpicia whispered up at her, and I felt her body relax under mine, and knew I could get up. She sat up and looked up at us. "Truly. I will try to be good."

"I've heard that before, Sulpicia." Didyme's tone was dripping with sarcasm. "I don't think I can trust you again, not for a while, at least." That was when she had sighed and looked up at me sadly, and told me she must take Sulpicia away.

I had agreed with her, but I had to ask her one thing that made me curious: why had she waited so long to use her power on Sulpicia? Wouldn't it have been much easier on everyone if she had done that sooner?

My wife had smiled sweetly at me and patted my cheek lovingly. I knew she wasn't using her power on me, she didn't need to.

"Because, dear one, I dislike manipulating people unless I absolutely have to. If someone loves me, it should be because I am worthy of being loved, not because I force them to." She shook her head sadly. "But sometimes, I must be logical, and I must use whatever weapons at my disposal to get things done."

I reached up to hold her hand to my face. "I have been blessed with a very wise wife in you, beloved."

She grinned. "And I with a wise husband."

Then she kissed me and took Sulpicia's hand, and led her back into the house, I suppose to pack some clothing for their voyage, wherever they were going. Once they were gone into the house I went to check on Athenodora, who I was sure needed a bit of reassurance.

We watched from the kitchen window as my wife and Sulpicia leapt lightly over the wall and disappeared, and I heard Athenodora sigh sadly.

"Will I be like that, when...when it is time?" she asked me timidly, looking up hesitantly at me. "So…so very angry? Out of control?"

I thought for a long moment before answering. I did not want to lie to or frighten her, but at the same time, I wanted to offer her a bit of hope. She seemed like such a fragile creature, and I found that I liked her and did not want to frighten her anymore.

"Perhaps. Newborns are terribly passionate and they have a very hard time controlling themselves." I turned and looked directly at her; surprisingly, she looked back at me, holding my gaze expectantly. I went on.

"You must understand, Athenodora, that we see things, we hear things, feel things, very much differently than we did when we were like you. It is like comparing night to day. Our senses are so much more powerful and sensitive. And when you awaken to that, it is very hard to deal with the amount of information you are suddenly receiving through those heightened senses. It is disorienting, frightening even, at times.

"And then there is the thirst…It is very powerful, the lust for blood, like no human hunger. It consumes you, dominates you, until you have matured enough to rein it in a bit."

Athenodora swallowed convulsively, biting her lip at the thought of blood. Of thirsting for it. Perhaps wondering if she would like it.

"And the body is so much stronger and feels so much more…I don't know, perhaps 'alive' is the best word, but I hesitate to describe us as being _alive_, like humans are alive. We are more like living stone, hard and cold to the touch, unchanging. But we are still sensitive, and much more passionate than as mortals. The body makes demands, and it is difficult to say no."

She nodded and finally looked away, out the window, toward where the others had disappeared. The sun was setting now, the sky streaked with brilliant oranges and reds. I watched the colors reflected in her eyes, deepening them from the normal rosy pink to something more, almost red. I saw then for a moment what she might look like as one of us, and knew she would fare well.

"Perhaps you should go ahead and change me now, my lord Marcus. I think I have the courage for it today, I may never have it again."

Her words shocked me. Those were the last things I would have imagined coming from her mouth. But then she looked back at me, and I saw her delicate face was completely serious.

"Truly? Now?"

She nodded sharply, emphatically. "Now. And I promise you, I shall be a better newborn than Sulpicia. I'll behave myself."

Something in her tone spoke to me: I had misjudged this girl. She was strong beneath that pale, quiet, placid surface, she had passion buried inside her that she knew she wanted to let out. She had listened carefully to me and made her choice, not dependent upon some possible future with Caius but because she had decided that she wanted it.

And she also wanted to prove to herself and to everyone else that she could be better than Sulpicia.

So I took her to the chamber I'd hidden her in before, and I changed her.

She was right, she did much better. Not a scream or shriek, simply a gasp of pain as the venom began its work, and then complete silence as she bore it rigidly til the end. And when the time had passed and she finally opened her eyes, she looked at me calmly and said, "Thank you, my lord, may we hunt now? I am quite thirsty."

I shook my head in wonder and took her out to hunt.

She was amazing. Lovely as the full moon (although she couldn't hold a candle to my Didyme), she was graceful and terrible in her pursuit of blood. Efficient, quick, and merciful to her prey, she slaked her thirst quickly and quietly, and then went back to the house with me to listen to stories of my little family's lives until dawn.

Life fell into an odd, peaceful rhythm during the three months Didyme was gone with Sulpicia. I found in Athenodora something like a little sister, and she felt the same for me. It came easily, our friendship, and I enjoyed her company.

She was terribly bright, and had a brilliant sense of humor, despite her shy nature. We would discuss all manner of things during the day, covering all the subjects in Aro's library, after I had taught her how to read. She had been a slave, after all. But she learned quickly, I never had to repeat anything twice, and she had a voracious appetite for knowledge that reminded me of Aro. I had actually begun to wonder if she were more suited for Aro than for Caius.

Then one day, the ladies came back.

Sulpicia had visibly calmed in the months she had been away, her whole demeanor much softer, her eyes still blazing red but no longer crazed. Whatever my wife had done with her had worked, for she could smile and laugh and no longer had the jittery, spastic mannerisms of a newborn. She greeted me with a little incline of her head and apologized for the trouble she had caused before. The strength of the bond between her and Didyme was almost visible to the naked eye without my gift: Didyme had thoroughly bound Sulpicia to her, wrapped her in layer after layer of enforced devotion, until there was no question she would ever do anything to cause Didyme pain or distress.

I looked my wife in the eye and knew she saw me measuring them. She smiled a bit sadly and put her arms around my neck; I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her off her feet, holding her close: I never wanted to let her go.

"I know what I have done, Marcus, and you must know I hate myself for it," she whispered into my ear, once Sulpicia was out of earshot in the house.

I pulled back a little to look into her face, reaching up to trace the line of her brow, then her nose, then her lips, engraving every inch of her into my consciousness. "My love, you did what must be done. We all work for the good of the family." I chuckled. ""Wait until you see our Athenodora. I think you will be pleased, and surprised."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Is she—did you…"

I nodded and silenced her lips with a kiss. She sighed and gave up speaking, wrapping her legs around my waist, pressing her body against me as if trying to merge her body with mine, damn the clothes. Her touch was a warm golden rain that washed away the stress her absence had caused, every cell in my body felt alive and tingling. She was the lodestone to my magnet, the sun to my planet.

"I love you."

"And I you. More than anything."

"Shall we…"

"_Yes_."

We would join the ladies later. We had a long-overdue reunion to attend to.

We found that Sulpicia and Athenodora together as immortals were quite different than they had been before the change.

Whereas before Sulpicia had been clearly dominant, and Athenodora had hung on her every word, had doted on her, now the dynamic was very much altered. There was an almost tangible air of competition and antagonism between them, but they refused to acknowledge it aloud. They were always together, as if the best of friends, but atmosphere between them was almost poisonous, their conversation always civil and prettily worded, but always intended to cause hurt. They were like a couple of alley cats sometimes, backs arched, fur standing on end, spitting and snarling.

"My, Athenodora, how lovely you are this morning. What a beautiful gown. Truly, green suits you. Much more so than that blue one yesterday. It made you look positively ill."

"Oh, thank you, Sulpicia. You would know about that, I'm sure. After all, it is much the same with you. Truly, blue is not your color. Would you like to borrow this dress?"

"No, thank you, Athenodora, I don't think I could, after all, your hips are so much wider than mine, it would positively hang on me. But you're too kind!"

"Not at all, my friend. But you should let me do something different with your hair tomorrow, I think, it makes your nose look terribly large, to have it pinned up that way. Perhaps like this…"

"Oh, yes, you're perfectly right, Athenodora! Of course you can help me. After all, you were a slave before, so I am sure you're quite good at such things."

"Yes, you're right, I did dress hair before. It's a pity that I couldn't have attended you for your wedding. I am sure the old man would have loved what I could do, to deflect attention from your nose, and from that receding chin…"

And so on. Endlessly.

They drove Didyme and I to distraction with their catfighting. I didn't know what to do with them. The bond I saw between them was bizarre, like an elastic band, constantly contracting and stretching and snapping and rebounding, the colors mottled and sick-looking. I hoped things would calm down soon, perhaps it was just their overly-sensitive newborn temperaments, clashing with each other.

Then, one day, two years after they had left, Aro and Caius came home.

The four of us, myself, Didyme, Athenodora, and Sulpicia, were sitting in Didyme's garden; Didyme and I sat between the other women, keeping them physically separated, Didyme holding Sulpicia's hand and plying her with her gift, trying to ease the rivalry. I had quietly tried to reason with Athenodora to be more patient and ignore Sulpicia's barbs, as I felt Athenodora was the one with the most common sense, but she didn't want to listen. Finally, Sulpicia got up and left the garden; a moment later, Athenodora hastily excused herself to follow, intent on finding something to insult the other woman for.

Then, they were there. Aro and Caius were richly dressed, smiling expectantly at Didyme and I. We looked up at them in mild surprise.

"How wonderful to see you, brother, sister!" Aro boomed, reaching out to take my hand. It was no greeting gesture, really: it was his asking for a report on what had transpired in his absence.

I steeled myself for his reaction and took his hand, looking intently into his eyes as I felt him sifting through my thoughts.

The joviality drained from his face as he listened to my mind. I felt him go through my breaking his code, reading his journal and notes. His eyes widened at Didyme bringing the girls home, at the images I know he saw of Sulpicia and Athenodora. Avoided the memories of my intimate moments with my wife like the plague. Dodging around my speculations about his motives for anything and everything.

"My lord!"

Aro dropped my hand and stepped back, looking up to see Sulpicia standing in the garden doorway, his eyes wide and shocked.

She was beautiful, regal, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, her light blue gown not making her look ill at all. She smiled gently and made a neat curtsy to Aro, casting her eyes downwards, her lashes thick against her cheeks as she looked surreptitiously up at him through them.

"Welcome home."

He took a deep breath, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at her. He was so still, I could tell he was thinking intensely, making and changing plans, perhaps altering them to include her. He knew we meant her for him, and I could see that he wanted her.

Aro took a step toward her and held out his hands to her. "My lady?"

She smiled and swept forward, and reached out to take his hands in hers.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long, wordless moment, as he read her thoughts. She never lost her serene smile, her ruby eyes never wavering from his, as if daring him to find her unacceptable. He stared at her with an unreadable expression, shaking his head a little, as if trying to deny what he was hearing from her, what he was feeling for her.

After several minutes, he closed his eyes, the tension draining from his body. Then he looked up at her again and his smile was…different. Possessive. Covetous. Determined. _Lustful_.

"My lady, shall we take a stroll through the countryside? It is a lovely day, and I should be very glad of your company," he murmured, then raised one of her hands to his lips to kiss.

The color and intensity of their bond was growing, solidifying, thickening as I watched, amazed.

She smiled sweetly at him and inclined her head to him. "But certainly, my lord, it would please me most of all."

Then they were gone, without a backwards glance. I exhaled in relief and looked at Didyme, who smiled the smile of a satisfied cat with cream on her whiskers.

"Wasn't I right?" she murmured to me, squeezing my hand gently. "Perfect for each other. Just perfect."

I had to agree. Then I realized Caius was standing there before us, had been watching the entire thing, his face closed, enigmatic.

"Welcome home, Caius." I stood and extended my hand to him in goodwill, praying to every god I did not believe in anymore that he would take it.

Sometimes prayers are answered, even when undeserved. Caius took my hand in his and leaned forward to embrace me with his other arm, as if we were long-lost brothers, just reunited.

"I am glad to be home with you, Marcus, my brother. And to see Didyme, my mother, again." He turned and took Didyme's hand, kissing it, but not like Aro had kissed Sulpicia's.

Caius looked around, smiling slightly. "So, where is my intended? I am sure you have one for me as well, if you brought one for Aro."

Didyme grinned. "Oh, my dear, do not worry. I think you will find her much to your liking." She looked around. "Athenodora! Where are you?"

"Here I am."

Caius turned at the sound of her voice, which was like a ripple of harpstrings, and he froze in place.

Athenodora came into the garden like a spring breeze; her hair was down, the long white curls falling down across her slight shoulders like fresh snow, her eyes alight. Caius's eyes widened as he watched her advance toward him, his whole body tense, as if he were intending to flee. He began to tremble the closer she came, his lips parted, his hand came up unconsciously as if to reach for her.

"I am pleased to make my lord's acquaintance," she breathed, making a low, elegant curtsy to Caius as if he were a king. The slave, the son of a common man, watched that lovely young woman honor him as if he were royalty, his breath coming faster as he took in her luminous face, her glowing eyes.

"A-and I yours," he whispered, reaching out to take her hand, as he had seen Aro do. "Very much so."

I had never seen Caius more vulnerable, more open, more…more _human_. Is that what it took, being absolutely and completely slain by the deference of this girl, to awake something remotely alive in him?

She allowed him to take her hand and kiss it. "Thank you, my lord."

He swallowed. "May I…may I take you for a walk? I know it isn't original, but, perhaps, we could…we could…talk?"

Athenodora grinned, the smile lighting up her face like the full moon shining upon snow. "I should like nothing better than to talk more with you, my lord."

And just like that, it was done.

Thank all the gods above and below, that my wife, bless her, was not given to gloating. Well, that is to say, not _much_ gloating.

Much later, as we lay together in bed, molded together, she reminded me how she had told me that she would do a good job in picking wives for Aro and Caius. I wound one long, springy dark-golden lock of her hair around my finger, letting her babble on for a while about it, until I could bear it no longer.

"Enough." I rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed, and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly, until she was almost screaming.

"Stop, Marcus, enough! All right, I'll stop! Enough!" she cried, gasping, almost sobbing, laughing.

"Stop, shall I?" And then it wasn't tickling anymore, and she wasn't begging me to stop.

And so we became a happily paired six, no longer one joyful couple and two misanthropic bachelors.

Aro and Sulpicia and Caius and Athenodora wed the next day, in Didyme's garden, beneath the cloudless blue sky and surrounded by her flowers, which breathed their fragrance into the warm spring air and cast their vivid colors everywhere. The priest of Hera who officiated over the ceremony was blind and ancient, but what did that matter? All the better for us, after all.

Each bride presented her new husband with a ribbon, Sulpicia's dark blue, Athenodora's brilliant yellow, drawn from their own hair, which they wound about their mate's wrist. It was a tribute to us, the original lovers who had bound each other with Didyme's ribbon so long ago, in the apple tree, forever.

I held my Didyme's hand in mine, and I looked down at the red ribbon still twined around my wrist. It had faded with time, but it was still there, carefully, zealously guarded. It marked me as hers, just as she was mine, completely, body, heart, and soul. My wife smiled at me, peaceful, and she loved me with her eyes as our brothers and their new wives pledged themselves to each other.

"This is it, Marcus. This is what it means to be happy," she whispered to me, touching the ribbon with one finger, then touching my lips. "Truly. Happy."

And we were happy.

Oh, how I wish it could have been forever.


	5. Chapter 5: The Telling of Old Tales

**Author's Note: There is a great deal of history and mythology in this chapter, please bear in mind that it is all setting the stage for things to come very soon…**

**Chapter 5: The Telling of Old Tales**

What was that, my friend? Oh, yes. Aro. Aro and his plans. Yes, those were quite interesting, they shaped our future. Made us who we became, I suppose it is fair to say. Those plans began to truly take shape shortly after the weddings. What had been abstract ideas and thoughts to Aro before seemed to become more concrete; perhaps it was that Aro had finally found someone to truly support him in his endeavors, perhaps it was that he felt more of a man, perhaps it was vanity to impress his new bride. But regardless of the reason for his scheming shifting into reality, it began.

There was a happy time, the honeymoon time, of course, after the weddings, before things settled down and Aro began making his machinations in earnest.

The newlyweds were insufferable to be around, as newlyweds are wont to be, so very full of their newfound love and joy that they must visit it upon everyone else. Didyme and I watched them with fond tolerance, those couples so profoundly taken by their yearning for each other. After all, we had been quite insufferable ourselves…and still were quite often, to be truthful.

We watched and smiled at seeing Caius present Athenodora with gifts, his normally cold face so transparently eager to please, and nervous about her possible rejection…but she never did. Athenodora was a sweet-tempered young wife, as eager to please her new husband as he was to please her. They laughed a great deal together, something wholly new to Caius's personality. I had never, in all the time he had been with us, seen him laugh. But laugh he did, especially after Athenodora had accepted something for him: a piece of jewelry perhaps, a new book for her growing collection, or even just a bunch of fresh-picked flowers. She took them all the same way, with glee, and told him that she didn't need presents. Just his love.

I scrutinized the bond growing between them and saw that it was indeed strong, healthy, genuine. I also looked at the bond between Caius and Didyme, and, to my relief, saw it weakening as Caius's love for his new wife grew. It never disappeared altogether, but thankfully it decreased to the point where I no longer felt threatened by him.

Aro was also greatly changed in many ways by his new state. He seemed constantly surprised: I would see him staring into space with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, as if someone had just told him something completely amazing. He watched Sulpicia hungrily, coveting her every move with his eyes, and she knew it; she preened like a well-fed cat beneath his gaze, a self-satisfied little smile gracing her lovely lips. They rarely spoke in front of anyone else, rarely showed any outward affection other than the touch of hands; I supposed they saved their words and gestures for their private moments, because their bond was indeed profound, perhaps more so than Caius and Athenodora's. Their relationship was intriguing to me.

One morning I caught Aro in his library, but instead of being entrenched in his books or notes he was staring at nothing again, a slight smile on his face. I knew what he was thinking, or should I say, whom he was thinking of. It was obvious. Dust motes glittered in the sunlight pouring in through the library window, something that was rare: Aro said the light was bad for the books.

"Thinking of love, brother?" I asked him, amused by that distracted expression, those faraway eyes. He was normally so self-possessed, I took a great deal of satisfaction in seeing him brought so low, made so much like me, a slave to his passion for his bride.

He looked up, startled, something not easily done to one of our kind, and his expression darkened. "What I think is none of your concern, Marcus," he finally said coldly.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "But you constantly make what others think your concern, brother dear. Perhaps you should share some of your thoughts with others. Gift us with them, as it were."

Aro blinked, nonplussed at my reply. I normally kept my mouth shut against his arrogance. Then he shook his head and sighed, covering his eyes with both hands, as if hiding, or embarrassed. "I find myself distracted, brother. Very, very distracted."

I chuckled and sat down across the table from him, leaning back in my chair. I glanced down at what he was supposed to be looking at: his notes about others of our kind. His list of names. Perhaps this was the chance I needed to speak with him about what I had read.

But I had to get a bit of fun for myself first. I didn't have many opportunities like this.

"That is normal, Aro. You have only been wed for a few months. Give it some time."

It was his turn to arch a sardonic brow at me. "Marcus Domitius, you still behave like a fool around my sister after more than a hundred years, so that does not give me much hope regarding reclaiming my senses."

We both laughed, and it was good. I felt closer to him than I ever had. "True," I conceded, ruefully: I was a fool. But a very happy fool. "Very, very true."

Aro slapped the scroll he had in his hand down, frustration clear on his face. "I have so much work to do. I cannot afford to be…distracted… like this much longer."

I nodded. "Perhaps. But sometimes plans must be altered in the face of events. You seem to enjoy Sulpicia. You seem to enjoy being married."

He stared into nothingness again, a shadow of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and finally nodded back, as if he didn't want to meet my eye and admit it. "Yes. Surprisingly…surprisingly, I do enjoy it. I had never thought I might." Aro glanced sideways at me, a sly little smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "I never thought I might become such a fool as you."

"And I never thought you would take so readily to being a foolish husband, brother."

He bristled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I grinned impudently. "Aro, in the many years we have known one another, I never knew you to pay a female the slightest bit of attention. Human, immortal, it didn't matter. You seemed too consumed by your plans, your travels to pay attention to matters of the flesh…" I paused, asking myself if I should dare to continue. I threw caution to the winds. "I wondered if you had _any_ desire for a woman, and if so, if you had any clue what to do with her once you had her."

If he had been human, I am sure Aro would have turned several different varying shades of crimson and purple in his indignant rage. His eyes widened until I thought they might start form the sockets, he half-rose and assumed a challenging stance.

"What are you trying to say, Marcus Domitius?"

I laughed at his discomfiture. "Nothing at all, brother. I was just a bit worried I might have to have a little chat with you before your wedding night is all." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I was concerned you might try to read to her all night long."

He growled at me, and the sound was welcome: finally, passion had broken the smooth, conniving surface of this man who had become, for better or worse, my brother. I wondered if I would have to fight him. It had been a while.

Then he subsided, as if realizing he looked ridiculous.

"Of course I know what to do with a woman," he sniffed, looking anywhere but at me. "I wasn't a complete innocent you know."

No, I didn't know, but I let it rest. Enough baiting the man.

"What are you looking at, Aro?"

He finally looked up to meet my gaze. "You know very well what this is now, Marcus. I saw it when you greeted me…before. I know you broke my code and read my secret notes."

I rolled my eyes. "As if it were truly secret, brother. If you meant it to be hidden, you would have kept your things hidden much better than you did." I pointed at his journal, lying to the side of the notes. "That being left in the open, unguarded? You wanted me to find it. You were practically daring me to read it."

Aro smiled, clasping his hands together and leaning toward me eagerly. "And you did. You read my notes, broke my code…Which wasn't an easy feat, by the way. That code took me quite a while to conceive of. Fell right into my trap. Passed the test, with flying colors. Now I know: you do indeed have a mind that I can use. You just had to begin using it, is all."

I didn't know whether to be insulted or pleased by the backhanded praise. Perhaps a bit of both.

"You know I am not stupid, Aro. I just choose to not bury myself in words like you do. I have other things that I enjoy as well."

He stood up and came around the table, clapping me heartily on the shoulder. "And now you have proven that to me, Marcus. We have much to discuss. Much to plan."

I sighed. "That is exactly what I have been afraid of, Aro. I know I won't have a moment's peace from now on, that I have fallen into your trap."

And how right I was.

Aro began to try to monopolize my time, much to Didyme's frustration. And mine. And Sulpicia's, for that matter.

"Here, brother, read this. Tell me what you think," he might say, pressing a book into my hands, trying to guide me by the elbow into his study. Sometimes I let him, other times I did not.

But I did become quite intrigued by the whole business. He explained to me what he was doing all those years, traveling all those miles, taking all those odd notes.

"I shall build an empire, Marcus. _We_ shall build an empire. A secret empire. An empire of the underworld; we shall milk the mortals for what they are worth, live on them in every way…but they shall never know. Ingenious, don't you think?"

I shook my head doubtfully. "Aro, they are many and we are few. I saw your notes. In all your travels, you saw no more than a bare hundred of others of our kind. We are strong, of course, and some of us possess powers beyond our kind's norm, but still…"

Aro clapped his hands enthusiastically. "And there lies the key to it all. Those of us with powers. Did you not read my notes? Did you not see, how those with special abilities could be of great benefit to us?" He tossed something down in front of me onto the table.

I considered for a moment, looking down at the list he had just thrown at me. I saw the names (sometimes just descriptions) marching in orderly fashion down the parchment page. I'd read them before, but not with this in mind.

**Lucius Patellus**—Pavonia, Italia (sometimes). Appears to have some kind of influence over physical objects: saw him levitate a human during feeding. Amiable but determined loner.

**Cerridwen**—Brittania. Holds court in Southern Britain (Wales), revered as a demi-goddess by the tribesmen. Said to be able to bewitch others through music. Would not allow me to approach her.

**Ailbric**—Germania. Wanderer. Avoided me somehow, I could smell his scent quite close by, but was unable to locate him. I believe he may possess some kind of ability to camouflage himself.

**Mariamne**—Greek but resides in Egypt. In service to Sekhmet. Seems to be able to hear thoughts. Willing to speak with me regarding history but not interested in anything beyond her current lifestyle keeping the goddess's library. Refused to allow me to touch her to learn more.

**Antigonos**—Crete. Partnered with **Epiphania.** They propagate the cult of the bull-god among the Minoan humans. He has a physical ability, manifested as being able to cast fire, while his mate can temporarily stun a mortal or immortal. Hostile.

I looked up from the parchment to cock an eyebrow at Aro. "How exactly did you learn these individuals' abilities?" I shook my head in wonder. "After all, it isn't every day that you would be in a position to see someone stunned or burned, if these beings dwell among mortals?" I tapped the last two names I had read, the ones on Crete. "What about these two? _Hostile_?

Aro suddenly seemed a bit embarrassed again, avoiding my eyes to look anywhere but at me. "Well, I approached all of them directly, after observing them for a time…You can learn a great deal about the ones that live with humans by speaking with them. They revere our kind as gods and goddesses, you know, in many places. But with those that are wanderers, I'd have to eventually simply approach them. Usually, I could persuade them to allow me to touch them somehow, in greeting, you know…" He trailed off, idly drawing a pattern on the wooden tabletop. How odd, Aro fidgeting like a human.

"Those two in Crete…" he murmured, sighing. "I made the mistake of trespassing in their dwelling. Well, _on_ their dwelling. I was on the roof, to be precise. I had no idea they would realize I was there....They were, er, otherwise occupied…Seemed quite distracted…"

I had to laugh: the image of Aro creeping about on rooftops, spying on other immortals while they were _together_—and then being noticed!

"So, I am assuming they demonstrated their abilities to you. No need to touch them."

I was trying to hold in my mirth, but it was terribly difficult. Aro steadfastly refused to look at me, staring determinedly out the window, as if the cloudless blue sky were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. That was when I noticed for the first time that his hair was several fingers shorter than it had been before. He had cut it. Or…

"How very generous of them, to not put you through the trouble of an introduction! They just gave you what you wanted straight off!" I bent my head and didn't bother trying to contain it anymore. I laughed so hard it began to hurt; if I'd been human tears would have streamed from my eyes. "So tell me, brother, is that where you stopped being a total innocent?"

Aro slapped the table irritably. "Enough," he said coldly. "Please."

I sat back in my chair, still chuckling. I couldn't refuse him when he asked me like that. But that picture has remained engraved in my mind ever since: those furious Cretan immortals, disturbed from their love play, capturing and punishing my arrogant brother, the male burning off a few inches of Aro's long hair while his mate held Aro immobile... Sometimes I will touch his hand and dredge that thought up, flash it prominently if Aro becomes too insufferable; it always serves to bring him down a notch or two.

I decided to keep reading. Aro needed some time to cool down. When his ego was bruised he was the most dangerous.

I passed a few minutes scrutinizing the names on those pages. The ones he had been able to interact with dwindled, until it was just a list of names and locations. Years and years later, I came across that list again, in the library in our castle in Volterra, and shook my head at the number of names I saw there which had indeed been revered as gods at some time. Just as Aro said.

"But these immortals are most often labeled as unwilling to help you. Or, help us. They're happy where they are. Perhaps they might change their minds in the future, but unless we have some way to compel them, I fail to see how these people could help further your cause." I put the scroll down and leaned toward Aro, who finally had composed himself enough to look back at me, his face stonily expressionless.

He nodded, his mouth twisting wryly. "Yes, I know. That has caused me no small amount of worry." Then he grinned, and reached into a leather pouch that was hanging from the back of his chair, pulling out another scroll, tiny and tightly-wrapped. "Then Caius had a brilliant idea."

I picked up the scroll and carefully unrolled it. Once again it was a list of names and locations, and each one had some kind of possible ability noted. I looked up at Aro, puzzled. "What is this?"

Aro leaned toward me, his smile slow and sly. "A list of potential candidates, Marcus."

"Candidates for what?"

"For immortality."

I blinked in shock. "These are humans?"

He nodded eagerly, reaching out to take the scroll from me.

"While Caius and I were wandering, we hunted, of course. One evening we were on Rhodes and Caius happened upon a particularly tasty-smelling young woman; we followed her for a while, until he could take her without fear of discovery. Luckily she left her home to fetch water, which took her out of the other humans' notice."

I waited patiently. Aro loves to tell a story, and despises being rushed when he is in the mood to talk.

"So Caius grabbed her from behind as she was kneeling to dip her jug into the stream; she screamed, of course, and I reached out to cover her mouth while Caius drank from her…And that is when I discovered something very, very interesting."

I nodded.

Aro took a deep breath, washing his hands together as he does when he is excited. "I heard her thoughts, of course. I heard her fright and saw her memories flash back to her family, her parents waiting at home, and also something else." He tapped the table for emphasis. "I heard her call out for help with her mind. And I heard the humans in the house respond to her call, a man shouting out that the girl, whose name was Bryseis, was in trouble."

I stared at him in shock, waiting for him to go on.

"A few moments after she screamed out with her mind, the humans were there, and they attacked us. Insane. So sad, truly, I was barely thirsty. But at least Caius, being a newborn, was always thirsty, so it wasn't a total waste."

He stood up and strolled to the window, gazing out. "Later that evening Caius and I were enjoying the ocean breeze on the cliffs there and I was lost in thought about that girl. She had been human, but she'd had an ability, clearly: I suppose one might call it telepathy, she could speak—or, in that case, scream—to the minds of others.

"It made me remember my human years. I'd always been very sensitive to the thoughts of others, if I could touch them." Aro absently touched his own face, remembering.

"Of course that was augmented greatly when I was changed, as was the case with you and my sister. Each of you had special qualities as humans that were multiplied greatly by the transformation. Didyme had always been lovable, but she became able to use that trait like a tool, as a weapon sometimes. And you, Marcus, were always good with others, you could always judge who would be loyal or shiftless. I know now it was that you were unconsciously weighing the ties that others have between each other: a loyal servant has a strong bond with a beloved master, while a lazy, ungrateful one has little bond at all. Correct?"

I nodded again. I'd thought often of my gift, which I truly didn't think had much practical value. But I supposed it had been worth something, after all.

"And so, you may ask, what does this have to do with my plans?" He didn't wait for a response. "It has _everything_ to do with them!

"I just need to get to the human before the change. If I identify a human with a potential gift, I can change them, and just like with you, and Didyme, and Caius…and now with the ladies…If I take them and train them as newborns, earn their loyalty, have you and Didyme help me in this, to help bind them to us, help weed out the bad seeds…Before too terribly long, we shall have a fearsome little army of immortals, dedicated to our purpose."

I sat frozen for a long moment, thinking about his words.

It was true: newborns are terribly temperamental, but also terribly malleable. If treated properly with experience and patience, their wild natures can be tamed to be wildly loyal. Such had been the case with Caius and Athenodora and Sulpicia. Each of us, Aro, myself, and Didyme, had tamed a newborn in our own particular ways, and now they were loyal members of our family.

It could work. But at what cost?

I was still hazy on what Aro truly wanted. We had everything we needed or wanted now, living the way we did. Of course we would have to move eventually, start fresh again somewhere else, but that wouldn't be too much of a difficulty. We had wealth for the asking, we had no real material needs without the human body's mortal necessities. What was so very appealing to Aro?

I understand now, of course. Years and years have passed and I have seen his machinations become reality. I have seen his hunger for power, his desire to manipulate, in action. And I do have to say, he has created quite a little empire for himself. Immortals the world over respect and fear us. They look to us for guidance and civilization and structure. And it is all because of Aro.

But oh, my, at what a price it all came.

Aro kept making plans to leave again, to go back out into the world and find more mortals to keep under vigilance, but he also kept putting those plans off every time Sulpicia seemed even slightly upset about the idea of him leaving. I thought it was extremely sweet of Aro, and I was also quietly grateful to Sulpicia for reining him in a bit, because it afforded me more time with Didyme. I knew it was only a matter of time before Aro drafted me to go with him on his journeys, and I didn't relish the idea.

Neither did Didyme.

"No, Marcus. Absolutely not! You're needed here!"

She was in a fine fluster, raging back and forth across the floor like a beautiful little whirlwind, eyes flashing, gesturing wildly. I lay across the bed and watched her, smiling: I didn't often get to enjoy one of her tantrums. She had them so infrequently now.

Aro had informed her that morning that we (as in, Aro and myself) would be leaving in two days time. To say she had taken it gently would be a terrible exaggeration. More like an outright lie.

"Let Aro take Caius. Let Aro take Sulpicia! Take them both! Anyone but you. You stay here, as always, and you guard our home. Right?" She whirled on me. "Unless you _do _want to go?"

I shook my head immediately. "Never in a million years, my love. My wandering days are over." I held out my arms to her, inviting: she bit her lip, indecisive for a split second, then threw herself at me. "Why would I ever want to leave this, after all?" I kissed the top of her head and held her tightly to me.

She growled against my chest. "Whyever does he need you to go, Marcus?"

I sighed. "Your brother wants to involve me more deeply in his plans, Didyme. And you know I have pledged myself to helping him. As did you."

Didyme dug her fingers into my tunic, knotting the fabric and pulling it tight. "I know. But still, why you? Can't you serve his interests here?" She sighed. "With me?"

I ran my own hand through her hair, lifting a golden curl and wrapping it around my finger, stretching it out a little, until it sprang back. "Perhaps…perhaps, you could go as well?"

I knew Aro wouldn't change his mind about making me go with him. But maybe I could get him to alter his plan a little.

Didyme sat up and looked down at me, eyes wide and eager. "Of course!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Sulpicia and Athenodora and Caius can manage things here. And I could help you! Surely my gift could be of some use to this mad scheme of his…" She smiled wickedly. "And we could be together. How long has it been, Marcus, since we have traveled!"

I nodded, all the while hoping that Aro would agree. A disappointed Didyme is even worse than an angry one.

Luck smiled upon us, and surprisingly, Aro agreed to the suggestion easily. "Not a bad idea, Marcus. After all, should we decide to actually bring someone home with us, my sister's abilities would ease things quite a bit, don't you think?"

So it was agreed. We would leave the next day, Aro, myself, and Didyme. The plan was to return in three months, which was as long as Didyme felt comfortable leaving our home in the charge of others. She drove them to distraction.

"Athenodora, mind my garden. Water every day, and be sure to prune back the roses and ivy.

"Caius, Sulpicia, you keep an eye on the slaves. And please, don't let us be missing any when we return. It's such a terrible bother to buy and train new ones."

She left a list of a thousand things that needed to be done and not done. Caius rolled his eyes constantly at her admonishments, while the girls just smiled brightly and gritted their teeth, wanting us to be gone and the whole thing done.

But then we were on the road again, and I found, to my surprise, that I enjoyed it.

We left Volterra and traveled overland to the southern seaport of Bari, where we boarded a ship bound for Greece. We docked in Athens, Aro heading straight into the heart of the city, much to our surprise.

"There is someone I would like you to meet, Marcus. I think you will be very interested in him."

Didyme and I looked at each other and shrugged: it was always best to indulge Aro when he wanted something.

We wended our way through the busy streets of Athens, glad that it was a dark, overcast day. The wind spat rain at us, cold rain, the breeze smelling of the sea. I held Didyme in the circle of my arm and helped keep her cloak hood pulled up as we followed Aro through narrow alleys and crooked passages, up and up into the city (which is built on a hill, so everything is either up or down), until he stopped in front of a huge white wall with a heavy iron gate. Sentries barred the door, looking us up and down suspiciously.

"Let me in. He's expecting me," Aro said shortly, and threw back his cloak hood, revealing his eyes. Of course, at just that moment, the sun chose to peek through a gap in the clouds and a sunbeam struck us, revealing Aro's face and hands as the shimmering things that they were.

The guards stammered apologies and opened the gate for us, bowing low so they didn't have to look us in the face as we swept past them, then they closed the gate behind us with a clang.

"Go ahead, you can relax here. Didyme, put that hood back and show everyone your lovely face." Aro was smiling, he had the air of a child showing off a secret. "Come on, he knows we're coming."

"Who?" I asked, grabbing at his arm to stop him. "Who is this person?" Our kind has tripwire emotions: we dislike surprises and become very protective when thrust into new situations, or meet new people.

He gently removed my hand from his arm. "Patience, brother. Follow me and see."

Slaves bowed low before us, showing us the way through the gardens surrounding the house, which was huge, shining white marble, with graceful fluted columns in the ubiquitous Greek style of the time. Aro strode confidently into the house, waiting for no one, leading us down a long hallway, and bursting into a room as if he belonged there.

"Aro!" The voice that greeted us was strong, clear, and obviously that of one of our kind. "It's so wonderful for you to come. Please, introduce me to your companions."

The man who had been seated behind the desk rose and leaned forward expectantly, smiling. I stopped in surprise: he was the first older immortal I had ever seen.

He was tall and well-built, bearded (which was also unusual, I had never met another immortal man with facial hair), his features clearly Hellenic, with the proud nose and wide, bright eyes of nobility. His hair was curly, hanging down to his collar, glossy black mixed with gray and white, and his whole bearing was that of an older, more experienced man. Obviously he had been nearing forty when he was changed (humans aged very quickly in those days, they rarely lived to be sixty years old, so forty was a man entering his old years).

Aro smiled proudly and swept a graceful bow, then indicated Didyme and myself.

"Aethalides, I would like you to meet my sister, Didyme, and her husband, who is now my brother, Marcus."

Aethalides came from behind the desk and approached us, and I immediately felt something from him: he knew me already. He was like Aro, he could hear our thoughts, but he didn't need to touch us to hear them.

I wondered idly what that was like, living in a world where you never have any peace and quiet within your own head. I might be driven mad: I am the type of man who dearly loves his silence, his peace. Thank whatever gods exist that they chose to bestow those kinds of gifts on others who can appreciate them.

The man smiled and reached out to take Didyme's hand; he bowed over it and then kissed it, his eyes never leaving my wife's eyes, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as they touched her skin. "My lady, I am very pleased to meet you. Thank you for gifting my home with your lovely, most gracious presence."

Didyme giggled like a girl; I elbowed her. Shameless flirt. She couldn't help it.

"Charmed, my lord," she murmured and inclined her head to him. "Aethalides?" She cocked her head to one side, her lips pursed, as she always did when she was trying to remember something. "Aethalides, the son of…"

"Hermes. Yes. So it's said." Aethalides grinned affably, and turned to me, giving me a little bow. "Lord Marcus. How good it is to finally meet you. Your brother has spoken highly of you."

I glanced at Aro, one eyebrow raised sarcastically; Aro smiled merrily. "Yes, I'm sure he has," I replied dryly, and wondered what types of things Aro might have told this man about me. "I am well pleased to meet you as well, Lord Aethalides."

Our host indicated that we should follow him; he led us out of his study and into a larger room, furnished with comfortable chairs and couches, with a huge window looking out over the bay. Didyme and I sat on a leather-upholstered divan close to the window, so we could look out. It was a breathtaking view, the city spread out before us, and the ocean beyond. I was sure when the sun was out it was magnificent. Didyme sighed and leaned back against my chest.

Immediately Aethalides and Aro struck up a conversation, something about philosophy and mathematics and other people that they knew in common. The topics bored me, so I concentrated instead on the view, and studying the room. The entire house was huge, I could tell, and elegantly furnished with the finest taste. I wondered how long Aethalides had been living there, so openly, and with such a famous name.

I pondered that name, one which I had learned in my study of history during my times waiting for Aro to return. Aethalides had supposedly been one of the sons of the messenger god of the Greeks, Hermes; Aethalides, in the legends of Jason and the Argonauts during their search for the Golden Fleece, had been the voyage's herald. He was supposedly blessed with a legendary memory. Of course, that story had begun several hundred years before, but if he was an immortal, that would explain a great deal.

Aethalides glanced up from his conversation with Aro and smiled at me, putting out a hand to Aro to silence him. "Peace, old friend, we can catch up on this later. I think it would be best to explain things to your brother and sister." He rose and came closer, sitting across from us.

"I am indeed the one who went on that journey with Jason, although at the time I was a mortal. My mother told me that my father was the god Hermes, and what did I know but to believe her, although I never saw any evidence of that." Aethalides leaned back against the arm of his chair. "I had an exceptional memory, and I also seemed to be able to read the thoughts and feelings of others around me at times. I made a good herald, a good messenger, a fair poet, even. That is how I was drafted into that quest, to Colchis, to seek the Fleece with Jason and his friends.

"And that voyage to capture the Golden Fleece was much different than the story that was put out about it later. The story is much more glamorous than the actual quest was, truly." He chuckled, and his eyes were far away, far in the past. "Perhaps someday I shall sit down with a true poet and have him put it all down for posterity's sake." He winked at me, and I had to smile back.

"Once we had returned from the quest and the crew disbanded to the four winds, I wandered alone for a while. That is when I met someone in the forests of Arcadia, a woman whose eyes burned like fire, supernaturally beautiful, fearsome in her presence." He inhaled sharply. "And she changed me."

I nodded, glancing back toward Aro, who was watching Aethalides, his eyes intense. I had to say the name, it was on the tip of my tongue. "Lillith."

Aethalides nodded, his lips twisted in a tiny smile. "Yes, Lillith. I see you know something of her?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Just the stories from Sumeria and Egypt that Aro left lying around. I have guessed that she was the one who changed him, but I have no idea what her significance is. I supposed she was one of our kind, who came to be revered by the mortals." Then I remembered the harsh things said about her and had to change that. "Well, not revered, exactly."

Aethalides chuckled. "No, revered, not at all. Most people think of her as a demon. A blood-drinking demon." He glanced from my face to Didyme's; my wife was leaning forward, listening intently. "And she isn't just _one_ of us. She was the _first_, as far as we have been able to discern. The original Mother."

The Mother. The mother of us all?

"Do you have any idea how that happened?" Didyme whispered. "Did she speak to you, tell you anything?"

He shook his head. "No. She took me, bit me, and left me there in the forest to go through the change alone. All I had was her name, which she'd thrown at me in parting, before I became lost in the pain. It was very…it was very difficult."

Didyme reached out and placed her hand atop Aethalides's. "I'm sure. I'm so sorry that you had to endure that. At least we had each other, and Aro had some small idea what it was like so he could explain it to us…" Her eyes were wide and full of sympathy, and the man looked as if he were about to drown in them.

Aethalides smiled at her, then looked over at me. "I both envy and do not envy you, having such a wife as this, Marcus."

I grinned ruefully. "I am a wise man, Aethalides. I will only say thank you for your envy."

Didyme smacked my arm gently, then kissed me on the cheek. "I'm not so difficult to live with, am I, husband?"

"No. No, never. Sweet as honey."

We all laughed.

"Well, to return to the story," Aethalides said, "I woke alone, changed, and did not know what to do with myself. I remembered everything about my human life, although I had no idea that this was strange until I met others of our kind, later. My superior memory had carried over into my new life, been magnified, in fact. I could remember everything in minute detail, and I always will.

"I immediately tried to follow Lillith, though I didn't know her name at the time. I could still smell her, I pursued her until I lost her trail at the edge of the Adriatic Sea. I have crossed her path a few times since then, but she always eludes me. I do not think she wants to be caught.

"So, frustrated by my failure, I went in search of others of our kind, I wanted to know more about my nature. I realized with time that I could hear the thoughts of others when I hunted: I clearly understood what they were thinking as I took them.

"I decided to leave Greece, explore a bit. I hadn't come across any of our kind there, although I know now that they don't usually stay for long on the mainland, too many people." Aethalides turned and looked over his shoulder at Aro. "Did you ever go and look up those two on Crete that I heard about?"

Aro nodded and looked out the window, studiously ignoring my chuckle.

Aethalides's eyes widened a little as he must have been taking in our thoughts, and he quickly ducked his head to hide his spreading grin. "Er, well, anyhow, I left Crete and went into Asia Minor. I was familiar with the area from the quest, and I wanted to consult with Circe, if she'd agree to see me; I felt she, of all people, might know something about me, or something about Lillith."

I thought back to the story of the journey with Jason for the Golden Fleece, remembering the character of Circe, the sorceress. She also figured in the voyages of Odysseus and Aeneas…I wondered if all the characters I had read about or been told of and always assumed were fictional were actually real.

"I managed to find her in Colchis, although she was much aged. I sent a message into the city and she agreed to see me; upon seeing my eyes and my changed features, she immediately called me a 'child of Lillith' and begged me not to kill her."

He shook his head sadly. "Imagine. Even though I was still quite young at this life, I would never have taken an old woman like that. It almost hurt my feelings that she would think that.

"But I reassured her that I wasn't interested in anything from her but her wisdom, and she agreed to tell me what she had heard of my 'mother'.

"It seems that Lillith was once the handmaiden of the goddess Inanna in Sumeria, which is now Babylonia. Sometime during her service to the goddess, Lillith managed to attract the attentions of Inanna's consort, the god Tammuz. Inanna, in a jealous rage, tried to kill Lillith, but Tammuz protected her: apparently she was carrying the god's child, and he did not want to see her die."

I had to stop him. "Are you saying these gods exist?"

My mind balked at the concept of gods anymore: I felt that we were all alone in the wilderness of the world, and having to wrap my belief around the concept of the divine again was disturbing. If there was indeed "someone," or even many "someones" somewhere out there who were looking down over their creations and judging them…what would they make of us?

Aethalides paused before answering, and his tone was unsure.

"To be honest, Marcus, I truly do not know what to think about that. But there is something to the old stories; there has to be. I have seen no trace of those beings in my travels, nor has anyone else that I know of…Perhaps they vanished, for some unfathomable reason, went away to leave us to our own devices. But there is too much to ignore, too many stories saying the same things…and now, there is _us_." He indicated himself, then all of us, encompassing us all.

It was true. We were different; we were supernatural. We couldn't be explained, but we were there anyway. Who knew what the fogs of time's passing had obscured, had buried? I shivered for the first time in many, many years, but not with cold: with foreboding.

"Circe told me that when Inanna tried to kill Lillith, that Tammuz protected her. He took her away, far from Inanna, into the desert, where she could recover. The story says that he gave her some of his own blood to keep her from dying, because Lillith had lost so much blood during Inanna's attack. Lillith lost her baby, but _she_ lived, and when she awakened, healed, she was changed. Changed by the god's blood, into something else, something not human any longer."

Aethalides held out his hand, and the weak sunlight coming in through the wide window caught his skin, and caused it to glitter. "She was like us."

Didyme gasped. "And then what?"

He sighed. "Well, Circe says that the story goes that Tammuz sent her into Egypt to serve Sekhmet, a goddess there. Another being like himself and Inanna, I suppose. One of the old ones. But I have never met her. Sekhmet is the Egyptians' goddess of war and blood, and she welcomed Lillith as one of her servants. She tamed her and taught her about magic, because supposedly Lillith has amazingly strong powers, more than one. She is said to have control over the weather, she is viewed as a storm demon of some kind by those in Babylonia.

"But then Lillith ran away from Egypt, I don't know why for sure, Circe said she heard some whisper of a scandal involving a man, a mortal man that loved Lillith. Named Cain. She either ran away to be with him, or she killed him, or she changed him into one of us…There are many stories. Many variations. All that I know now is that in that part of the world, Lillith is regarded as a blood-drinking demon, one who takes the blood of children and the innocent, and also that she preys upon men."

Aro barked a short little humorless laugh. "Well, that part does seem to be correct, doesn't it, my brother in blood? Or shall I say, brother in venom?"

I stared at Aro, then back at Aethalides. "And what of us? What does this mean, to us?" I looked again at Aro. "And why does she matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? She is history. You are looking forward into the future, after all, with your thoughts of your shadowy empire."

Aro sighed and shook his head as if I was a terrible fool. "Because, Marcus, it's part of the whole thing. Where we came from. What we are. How we are what we are. One must know himself to be able to succeed."

Aethalides nodded. "Yes. That is true. Know thyself."

"And so what now, then, Aro? Now I know the story. What do we do?"

He rose and crossed the room to stand before the window. "We go and we check on my human candidates. We watch them and when we are sure, we make them part of our family. And everything will flow from there."

I turned to Aethalides. "Are you in support of my brother's plans, Aethalides?"

Aethalides laughed, shaking his head. "All I wish is to be left alone, Marcus. Very similar to you. But unlike you, my dear friend Aro here has no claim upon me. I will remain pleasantly uninvolved, I think."

We stayed with Aethalides for a few days, allowing him and Aro to catch up on their gossip and theorizing, while Didyme and I strolled through his gardens and sometimes the Athens markets and countryside. Sometimes, if he could break away from our brother, Aethalides would join us in our wandering, and he would talk with us.

I found out something very interesting about Aethalides: he had reinvented himself several times over in the past several centuries. He wasn't called Aethalides anywhere outside of his house: in that time and place, the humans called him Pyrrhus of Delos, and he had made his fortune as a fisherman. But before that, he had gone by many names: first Aethalides, nearly a thousand years before, then Euphorbus, who had fought in the Trojan War and been wounded by King Menelaus, then a philosopher called Hermotimus, then Pyrrhus…

"My next life begins soon, I think. I'm going to Samos, and I have already chosen my name: Pythagoras. I think I shall do quite well for myself."

Many years later, I would hold my friend Aethalides's theorems of mathematics, the bane of human geometry students the world over, in my hands and laugh. The original immortal mortal, he sailed through history effortlessly. He even, as Pythagoras, came forward to the humans and told them he was the living reincarnation of all those men before. I will never understand his motivation: he went down in human history as a great philosopher and also as a great madman.

We lost track of him many, many years ago, after he had a disagreement with Aro regarding authority. That was before we found Demetri, so we had no way to track him down when he vanished. But I have no doubt that he is dwelling quietly and happily somewhere in the world, enjoying his pleasant uninvolvement.

We said farewell to Aethalides with some sadness, because Didyme and I had really enjoyed his companionship. We invited him to visit us in Volterra, which he agreed to do in the next several years, since he would eventually migrate to Croton in Southern Italia.

"Good journey, my friends. May you find what you seek, as well as peace and happiness and love," he called after us. It was almost as if he knew the future and was mocking us with it. Mocking me, especially.

We journeyed north through Greece and into Europa, where we tracked down all the humans on Aro's list. He had confined himself to Europa for the sake of ease: the Celtic tribesmen of that continent were proud and superstitious, and also fragmented. They accepted the strange and unusual with reverence. Several times we simply walked into a village and were received with awe and deference, and often even sacrifices. It occurred to me then: why else do the stories of the gods so often call for blood sacrifice?

Because the gods love blood. And we are like their gods. In many cases, we _are_ their gods.

Most of the humans on Aro's list were young children. "Children have much more open minds," Aro explained to me one day as we observed a young boy in Gaul, what would eventually become France. "Their thoughts are much more direct, and they haven't learned how to hide things like adults have. I touch them once, I see what I need. They're also much more accepting. We just need to wait until they're a little older. I don't think it would do, to have a bunch of immortal children running around. Too difficult to control, I think."

Oh, how very right he was.

That boy did eventually join us, but he was one of the ones we lost in the war with the Romanians, a little more than a thousand years later. I shall speak of him another time.

We ranged through the continent for three months, then turned to head back to Italia as planned. Didyme was becoming fretful: she wanted her home and her garden, and she wanted time alone with me. She also worried about the three newborns at home.

"I shouldn't wonder that they'd destroyed the place and slaughtered my slaves," she muttered darkly to me one morning. "Come on. I want to run. Really run. I want to go home."

So we ran.

When we arrived back at our house in Volterra, we found things in order. Mostly.

Sulpicia was fearfully apologetic: she hadn't been able to resist the scent of the blood of one of the slave girls, and had taken her.

"But look, Didyme, I had them bring two more to take her place!" she said brightly, indicating the pair of young female humans standing behind her, quaking with fear.

Didyme sighed and held out her hands to the two girls, who came forward hesitantly, like dogs who have been beaten too many times. "Come here now. Let me have a look at you."

She looked them over critically, then smiled and put her hand on each one's head, and I felt her gift, like a rush of warm, fragrant wind, and I saw the bond between them shimmer into being. "There. Better now, I think." The women no longer trembled, and they served Didyme well for many years, until their natural deaths.

Didyme raked over her dear garden with merciless eyes, searching for anything amiss, and was able to find nothing wrong, a fact that Athenodora received with almost puppy-like gratitude.

Caius stared at us from the shadows and smiled coldly at me while I waited for my wife to complete her inspection of every flower. "Welcome home, Marcus. Good journey?"

I nodded, watching him carefully. Something was off about him. "Yes, very good. And here?"

He came forward out of the shadows. "Well enough. Boring. Terribly boring." He looked over at his wife, who followed Didyme around the garden. "I think I want to take Athenodora away for a while. Have some time alone." He smiled, and lost a bit of his coldness as she stood up and smiled back at him. "Do you think Aro would mind terribly?"

I smiled to see his smile. It was still so strange to see on that face, which was so accustomed to the lines of a frown, or a scowl. "I'll make sure he doesn't mind. Go."

Caius held out his hand to Athenodora. "Come, my love. I have a mind to see some of the world with you." And of course she came, and they left together, without a backwards glance.

They were gone for a long time, not returning for over a year, but occasionally sending home messages that they were well. That frustrated Aro, that Caius had no mind for his plans, but he made do. Made do with me.

Aro drew me into his study almost every day, pounding more and more learning and planning into my head. "Soon, soon," he kept saying. Soon several of the children we had been watching would be ready.

I would often sit and think about the story that Aethalides had told us.

I would imagine Lillith in my mind, seeing her as beautiful, fierce, with flaming red hair and eyes, wandering the world alone. Why was she creating us? Was it out of loneliness? Surely not, or she wouldn't leave her creations to the dealings of fate, without her guidance. Was she cursing others with her own fate, determined she wouldn't be the only one to endure immortality thirsting after blood?

Or was she planting seeds? Casting her offspring about in the world, seeing what would happen? Was she insane?

I didn't know. But we would find out soon enough, unfortunately.

"Prepare yourself, Marcus, we leave again tomorrow. And this time, we don't come home empty-handed!" Aro crowed one morning, slapping his list down in front of me. Three names were underlined emphatically.

Augustin, the boy from Gaul. Boadicea, a girl from Britannia. Alistair, another boy from Britannia. All of them were old enough to suit Aro's standards.

And so it began.

**Author's Notes:**

Regarding Aethalides and all his various incarnations. The mythology I recounted here is correct according to tradition, except that Aethalides did not become a vampire. In the Greek stories, when the time came for Aethalides to die a mortal death, his father Hermes granted him a wish, any wish except that Aethalides could cheat death. Aethalides asked his father to give him the gift of eternal memory, enduring even after death. Supposedly when Aethalides did die, he went down into the kingdom of death (Hades) and was eventually reborn/reincarnated into another person, named Euphorbus. Euphorbus was a warrior in the Trojan war, who wounded the great Greek champion Achilles's beloved cousin/friend Patroclus before Hector, the greatest Trojan hero, finally killed him. In the fight over Patroclus's body, Euphorbus was injured by Menelaus, the aggrieved husband of Helen of Troy, the cause of the Trojan War in the first place. After he was injured, Menelaus took Euphorbus's shield from him as a spoil of war. Later, when Euphorbus/Aethalides died, he was reincarnated as a man named Hermotimus, who supposedly proved his memories of his previous life to a historian. Thereafter he was reincarnated as Pyrrhus the Delian fisherman, and lastly as Pythagoras, the renowned philosopher/mathematician best known for being the "inventor" of the Pythagoran theorem in geometry. I know, kids, sorry about that. Anyway, Pythagoras was a very interesting character: indisputably brilliant, but also a certified wacko if you read some of the things he did and said. But the concept of the "original immortal mortal" intrigued me, and I thought he'd make an awesome vampire, constantly reinventing himself.

http(colon)//www(dot)mythindex(dot)om/greek-mythology/A/Aethalides(dot)html

Regarding Lillith:

Lillith began as a minor deity in Sumeria, and the myth that I recounted is the standard story, although I altered it to make her carry Tammuz's baby. I was intrigued by the beginning of these vampires and started doing some research and came across her, and wrote a little bit about her. That story was the first fanfic I ever started, called The Mother, and I eventually will go back and finish it. If you want to read the first couple of chapters about Lillith, here's the fanfiction link: .net/s/5514111/1/The_Mother_The_Ballad_of_Lillith

She is a tragic figure in mythology. She is mentioned in Babylonian, Egyptian, and Judeo-Christian-Islamic lore, usually as a temptress, a whore, a blood-drinking demon, the first vampire, and sometimes the consort of Cain, the son of Adam and Eve cursed to wander the Earth forever as a punishment for killing his brother, Abel. But I think she might just have been misunderstood, a young girl caught up in things much bigger than her…and that she might have become something very, very interesting. Here are some links about her:

http(colon)//en(dot)wikipedia(dot)org/wiki/Lilith

http(colon)//www(dot)gnosis(dot)org/lilith(dot)htm

http(colon)//www(dot)pantheon(dot)org/articles/l/lilith(dot)html


	6. Chapter 6: The GatheringIn

**Chapter 6: The Gathering-In **

Ah, my friend, the next several centuries passed both quickly and slowly. Quickly in the way that years to an immortal always pass quickly, hardly noted by one who is untouched by the passage of time…slowly in the way that I was frequently away from home, away from my wife, which was agonizing, and also because I was traveling with Aro and often Caius as well, searching and searching. We must have combed the entire continent of Europe a dozen times over, ever-seeking the faintest spark of talent among the masses of humanity.

Didyme had to stay in Volterra with the other wives after we brought the first new members of the family home, which irritated me to no end. But, I had to agree with Aro's logic: it was the only way to keep the newborns under control. She needed to use her gift liberally to rein in their flighty and passionate ways, to keep disaster from striking. It still was not a foolproof strategy, though. There were several disturbing events, involving newborns escaping our compound and tearing into the city, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.

We decided to relocate in 89 BC after two escaping newborns managed to slaughter at least fifty humans in the Volterra central market. Our house, though large and lovely, was not sufficient any longer. It was too easy to escape from (a simple leap over the walls), too exposed to human scrutiny.

We could not bear to leave Volterra, so we just decided to move ourselves up in the world.

I have to blame the whole ridiculous thing on Aro. _He_ insisted on a castle.

There was good stone in abundance nearby, beautiful sandy rock that made for a beautiful structure. We hired human stonemasons and laborers to build during the daytime, and we put our newest family members to work in the evenings, excavating and shoring up the network of tunnels and chambers below, which would serve our needs well—the newborns often had to be penned up. The castle was completed in record time, and we moved into our new dwelling only four short years after its groundbreaking. That was lightning-fast in those times, for a castle that size.

But I digress. Much happened before we got to the point of needing to move into the castle, which you might find very interesting.

That first journey, to bring back the first of the human candidates, was significant. It laid the groundwork, it made precedent. It should have given warning. But I was too caught up in the moment to give heed to things the way I should have.

As I mentioned before, Aro bade me prepare for a journey; we were to round up the prospective humans we'd been observing. Luckily, this time Caius would accompany us; we would most likely need all the help we could get. And that first trip out, for Boadicea, Augustin and Alistair, we took Didyme with us as well. That was her last voyage: afterward, she was too busy playing nursemaid and jailor to a flock of newborns to leave Volterra, much to my disgust.

It was decided we would go to Britannia first, for two of the humans we sought were there, and we could pick up the third on the way back through Gaul as we were on our way back home.

Europa in those days was a wild place, practically untouched by humanity. I believe the human year that we made that first "maiden voyage" was approximately 500 BC. The thick green forests were echoingly empty of civilization for mile upon mile. We were able to travel easily and quickly, skirting the human settlements, reaching the shores of Gaul (what later became known as France) in a few days' time, near the site that would be the city of Calais in about three hundred years. We stood on the beach for a while, waiting for Aro to finish wrapping his papers against the water.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Didyme murmured beside me, threading her fingers through mine as we looked out at the sea, at the waters of what would eventually be called the Dover Strait, part of the English Channel. I could barely perceive, with my superior eyesight, the dim mass of land to the west, approximately twenty-two miles at the narrowest point. It was a clear, bright summer day, the sky a deep and cloudless blue, which was reflected in the water below. The waves crashed against the rocky beach ferociously, whipped into foaming whitecaps by the stiff, salty breeze. I inhaled deeply, and found the combination of the wild scent of the sea and the familiar yet always-intoxicating scent of my wife to be very… stimulating. We sorely needed some time alone.

"Yes, indeed," I whispered back, drawing her into my arms and looking down into her face, "Beautiful." She giggled, wrapping her arms around me.

A hand came down on my shoulder, and was just as quickly withdrawn with a disgusted curse. I had to laugh at Aro's discomfiture.

"No one told you that you must touch us so often, Aro. Sometimes the thoughts of others should stay private." I turned to look at him; his expression almost screamed aloud his distaste for what he must have read in my thoughts about his sister. "Sometimes I think you have a compulsive need to be a voyeur."

Caius gave a sudden, choking bark of laughter and whirled to look the other way, back toward the forests, to avoid having to look at Aro.

Aro stared at me for a long moment. "And no one told you that you must constantly go about in a lustful haze," he finally replied, his voice cold and dry. "It's decadent."

I didn't allow his disdain to faze me. "I should think a newly wed man such as yourself would not be so eager to leave his bride. A bit of decadence never hurt anyone." I idly polished my fingernails against the fabric of my tunic for a moment, inspected them carefully, not meeting his eyes. "Perhaps you'd be in a better humor if you followed my example, eh, brother? Not quite so…hmmm…tightly wound?" I smiled at him. "Then you might not need to listen in on the lustful thoughts of others, if you had more of your own."

Didyme shrieked with laughter, her hands flying up to cover her mouth, leaving only her blazing red eyes exposed, huge with hilarity. "Marcus!" she hissed.

Aro took a deep breath and looked away. I was surprised by that: normally he couldn't resist being drawn into a little battle of wits, he gloried in being able to call himself the victor over me, or over anyone, for that matter.

"Do not think to speak on things you have no knowledge of, Marcus," he finally said, flatly, and turned to walk into the surf without a backwards glance.

We watched him go, frozen in place by surprise. Didyme raised one eyebrow in puzzlement. "What was that about?" she asked under her breath, hoping, I'm sure, that the crashing of the waves against the sand would cover her voice. I shook my head: I had no idea.

To our disappointment, Sulpicia didn't seem to be holding her husband's attention much anymore. Yes, when he was home he was attentive and courteous to her, and I had no idea what they were like in private, but he seemed to be always ready to leave her again, and there seemed to be little passion in his attentive courtesy. She pined for him when he was gone, and lamented his coolness when he was home. Didyme and I had had many conversations about them, wondering what had happened.

Perhaps Aro had read something in Sulpicia's thoughts that disturbed him; perhaps he had little attention span for romance and physical love; perhaps he was simply so wrapped up in his machinations and plotting that he was truly wed to it, rather than to his wife in the flesh.

Caius and Athenodora were still quite smitten with each other, although the years had toned down their ardor a little, making more room for a real friendship and affinity. She adored him completely, and he, in his odd, cold way, seemed to adore her in return.

But even so…even though he seemed to love his beautiful and charming wife, there were times when I saw him staring at Didyme, when he thought no one was watching, with something reminiscent of that hopeless hunger that had bothered me so much before. The same jealous, angry desire that had been the reason Aro had taken him away in the first place.

I always made sure never to let on that I had seen him, because I didn't want to disturb the strange, delicate balance in our household, but I never forgot. I also didn't tell Didyme, which was a first in our relationship: I didn't want to bother her with what I thought was probably nothing, just a jealous husband's paranoia.

Oh, how I wish I had told her. How I regret my weakness, my passivity in not saying anything. But that is another story. I shall tell you in time.

Aro disappeared into the water, striking out for Britannia without a backwards glance. Didyme and I shrugged at each other, giving up on the whole matter for the moment, and then we ran out into the surf together, hand-in-hand, Caius following behind.

I've never particularly enjoyed swimming, although many of our kind do. Something about not being able to breathe underwater, perhaps. I enjoy breathing, even though it isn't necessary for me anymore, of course. I like to be able to take in the scents of my environment, to feel my lungs fill with the air and feel connected to the world again through it. The pressure of the water against my face, the stifling quality of it, the way my limbs couldn't move as freely, hindered by the drag and flow of the waves; it was all unpleasant for me. I was glad that it was a short swim. I'm not the fastest swimmer, either. Maybe that stems from my dislike of the activity in the first place—although it seems that I would move faster in an effort to get out of the water faster.

Oh, again, I am wandering. I am sorry, my friend. One of my many faults and foibles, I suppose.

Didyme, on the other hand, swam like a dolphin, or perhaps like a siren, a mermaid, graceful and fluid in every movement, like the water itself embodied in an ivory-skinned, ruby-eyed goddess.

At one point she paused and waited for me to catch up with her, easily treading water, hanging suspended a few feet below the surface. The sunlight streamed down through the water, striking her perfectly, seeming to set her ablaze with golden light, her short white tunic billowing gracefully in the current. She smiled at me, blew a kiss, mouthed, "Hurry up!" She was always faster than I.

I reached her in a moment, and even though it was underwater I couldn't resist taking her into my arms; we slowly began sinking, no longer swimming or treading water, the water turning darker and colder as we descended, but it didn't matter, because she was warm and beautiful in my embrace, her lips against mine, her legs around my waist, her hair a green-gold cloud enveloping us both.

I began to think perhaps I might not dislike swimming quite so much anymore. At least, not if it could be like this. Suspended in the grey-green darkness, surrounded by the coolness of the water, the heat and sweetness of her pressed against me, surrounding me. Her eyes were wide open as she kissed me, we stared into each other's eyes and knew without a doubt that there was nothing better, nothing more important, nothing more profound, than that moment, lost in one another.

Gods above, how I loved her. Love her. Even now.

After a long moment I reluctantly let her go; we had sunk far down into the black depths, and the water pressure had built up to the point of being almost painful against my eardrums and eyes. Regretfully, I took Didyme's hand and we kicked back up toward the surface, which we could see shimmering far above.

It was only a few more miles to the shore, so we swam them together, with her constantly complaining, teasingly, about my slow pace.

When we emerged from the ocean, dripping and laughing like happy children, Aro and Caius were waiting impatiently; Aro rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, striding away and up into the dunes, toward the green hills beyond.

Didyme squeezed my hand, her eyes following the lines of the towering white cliffs further up the coastline; she closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled the scent of the air, smiling a little. "Smells good here," she said quietly, leaning against me. I had to agree: the wind brought a rich mixture of green growing things, fertile earth, and the salt of the sea. She picked a long strand of seaweed from my shoulder and deftly tied it into a circle, placing it atop my head like a crown. "Hail King Marcus, lord of my heart," she whispered, bringing back memories of the last full day we had been human together. She'd placed a crown of daisies on my head... And the next evening, we were immortal.

But it was worth it. Truly.

Had I had a heartbeat, it would have stuttered like a lovestruck, tongue-tied boy at those words, at the sight of her eyes, so full of love, at the sound of her voice, so soft and sweet, and only for me. We stood there for a long moment, simply looking at one another.

"Come along, for the love of the gods!" Aro called back to us, his tone aggrieved. "They're not getting any younger, after all!"

Didyme and I smiled sheepishly at each other and followed after him, Caius trailing along behind us, kicking irritably at the grass.

I almost missed his narrow-eyed glare as I turned away. I felt it boring a hole in my back as we walked.

Yes, something was definitely afoot, and I had no idea how to deal with it.

We made our way north, following the coastline loosely. It was beautiful country, green and rolling, marshy in places, well-forested as it ran inland. The white cliffs towered above the iron-blue sea, the waves crashing far below, the spume cast up into the air and touching us even as high up as we were.

We came upon the village before sundown, and decided to hide in the forested hill overlooking the valley and watch until night descended, offering better cover.

The Iceni tribe, of whom Boadicea was born, were a Celtic people: tall of stature, fair of skin and hair, and full of bluff and bluster. Men and women went about blue-tattooed and half-clad in the friendly spring air, doing their chores in their walled village with an ease and openness. There was singing somewhere below, a woman accompanied by a harp or lyre, and her voice was sweet and true even in that barbaric tongue. Aro and I had taken some time to learn a bit of it, the song was something about the beauty of springtime and the goodness of the gods.

"There she is," Aro hissed, pointing eagerly. "The tall woman, with the bright red hair." Didyme and I crowded closer; we were hidden behind a rocky overhang, with a cleft in the stones giving a clear view of the valley below. It was easy to tell who he was speaking of. The young woman was easily as tall as either of us, if not taller, and built strongly, with broad shoulders and long legs, and she looked no stranger to fighting. Her long, brilliant red hair was plaited with gold thread, a testament to her family's wealth, I assumed, and she wore a short linen tunic and armor, like a man. She was surrounded by a group of other young people who followed her every move and laughed and conversed as if they were her own personal court. A person of significant magnetism, obviously. It wasn't just that she was rich and popular: even from a distance we could see how the eyes of all around her followed her, iron filing to lodestone.

"What do you think she can do, Aro?" Didyme whispered.

He glanced at her briefly and shrugged. "It's difficult to tell, since this is really only the third time I shall have done this, sister…But I think, to the best of my observations, that she has some kind of gift for compulsion. Something along the lines of your gift, perhaps…but more powerful, I think."

Didyme didn't rise to the bait; she simply smiled blandly and nodded as if happy for the knowledge. I slipped my hand into hers and squeezed it encouragingly. _Good girl_, I silently said. It's always best to let him think he's won—even when he hasn't. She squeezed back.

"And the others?" Caius interjected coolly. This…Augustin? And Alistair?"

Aro wrinkled his nose a bit in distaste. "Alistair, ragged little bit of stuff that he is, seems to bear some kind of unusual ability to find things. He's highly regarded by his people as a tracker and a treasure-finder, although he's weak-bodied. Seems very cowardly in nature, very retiring. I only observed him from afar, but one of my prey in the area had quite a bit to say about him through his thoughts: apparently, he was Alistair's brother."

"And Augustin?" Caius persisted.

"Augustin…" Aro murmured, looking pensive. "Augustin might well be dead by now. Based on what I found, he has some kind of foretelling ability. The humans both fear and covet these kinds of things, but I believe that all depends on what is foretold: if the outcome is good, then the seer is holy, and of the gods; but if the outcome is bad, then the seer is a witch, and of the devils. A very mixed blessing, I should say, for a mortal. By now they might have burned him, I suppose."

"How very sad," Didyme whispered to me. "But how very lucky for us, if these three turn out the way they might!" I nodded in agreement: a compelling gift, a finder or tracker, and a seer? Yes, very useful and lucky indeed.

Night slowly rolled across the valley, deepening the shadows and turning the green of the trees to black. The fires were lit below, the smoke billowing up to the bright new stars, and the loathsome smells of human food cooking wafted heavenward. After a while the humans all congregated around a huge central bonfire, the music and laughter coming easily to us on the cool night breeze, and they began to dance and sing and carouse merrily as they ate and drank.

Boadicea stayed among her crowd of admirers, except to get up and dance a few steps with someone, or to have her tankard refilled. She wasn't beautiful, but the way the others looked on her said they thought otherwise; I thought she would make a very intimidating immortal, given her already unusual height and build and boldness of character. She seemed to watch everything and everyone with sharp, brilliant green eyes that missed nothing. Once, I almost thought she saw us, far up the hillside, watching her. Her eyes kept ranging over our position restlessly, like she knew we were there.

Finally, the party began to die down, and the humans began drifting away from the fire in pairs or singly, retiring to their thatched-roof huts, though some twosomes went out into the darkness to couple in the tall spring grass. Boadicea remained by the fire a long time, staring into it, her hair the same color as the flames. I wondered what she was thinking, if she had some clue as to what was coming for her. Finally, she rose and went alone toward one of the houses. We waited another hour or more, until the village was almost completely quiet, before Aro nodded at us and we crept from our hiding place, down toward the unsuspecting humans below.

The plan was simple: we would enter her dwelling and take her from her bed, Didyme would use her ability if necessary. But between the four of us, we didn't expect much resistance we couldn't handle. We didn't want to change her too soon, because an unmanageable newborn would make things much more difficult for the subsequent captures of the two other humans on the list.

Well, we should have planned better, because we weren't ready for Boadicea, human or not.

She was waiting for us.

When Didyme and I slipped into the darkened hut, soundless as a cat on velvet, a light suddenly appeared: a was lamp uncovered, revealing Boadicea standing with her back to the wall, her short bronze sword aloft, her bright green eyes fearless.

"Demons!" she shrieked in her odd language, making a sign against evil toward us.

Didyme and I glanced at each other helplessly. Apparently, we weren't going to be able to do it the easy way. She was going to go out fighting—but go out, she would.

Immediately, Didyme crouched down and tried to slide alongside the human, and I felt the odd, warm whisper her ability makes when she directs it at others. Only those so linked with her can feel it; I liken it to touching a spider web spangled with morning dew: touch an end of the web and the entire thing moves, the droplets vibrating in sympathy. "Calm, Boadicea, calm!" she whispered in the human tongue, which surprised me, since I had no idea she'd been paying attention during Aro's and my lessons. She never ceased surprising me.

The human turned her wide, fearful, defiant gaze on my wife, brandishing the silly, ineffective sword, and I could feel her responding to the caressing urge of my wife's gift, but she fought it mightily. "No! Leave me, by the Mother, I command you!" she cried, falling back against the wall in fear as Didyme approached. Then her green eyes shifted to me, who was coming around the other way. "Help me, Mother! Help me, Horned Lord!"

Outside the hut was a commotion, I heard the humans crying out to each other, heard their running as they came close to Boadicea's home. I wondered what Aro and Caius were going to do, faced with them all, since he'd told us to take the woman in hand, and they would be in charge of keeping us safe until we were all away.

It didn't take me long to figure that out: the cries of confusion soon turned to screams of fear, and the gathering of Boadicea's intended protectors quickly scattered in terror to the winds. I supposed Aro and Caius had decided they were thirsty. One hundred humans were no match for two of us, truly.

Boadicea must have realized it was fruitless to keep calling out. Her resolve was crumbling in the face of Didyme's urges to love her, to be loved in return. Didyme's eyes were intense as she channeled all her strength into the woman, battering her will with love. Boadicea's green eyes softened as she looked at Didyme, even at myself.

"Please," she whispered finally, dropping to her knees, her sword clanging to the ground at my feet. "Please, let me die a clean death, lord." She bowed her head, pulling her hair aside to show the back of her long white neck: she wanted me to behead her; she had no idea what we really wanted.

I was touched by her bravery. She had no will to fight us, because Didyme had made her love her, but she didn't want to die a coward. I know why she thought we would kill her: outside that small house, her entire tribe was being casually slaughtered. The screams and crashes were as loud as if we were outside with them.

"Hush, child. We come, bring you life always. Be quiet, come now." Didyme's grasp of the language was crude but effective, and in her sweet voice the brutish tongue sounded almost beautiful. Boadicea's eyes widened in wonder, and I saw something like hope stir in her face as she considered Didyme's words.

"Please, stop the killing. I will come," she whispered finally. Then, so quickly she might have been immortal already, she snatched up her sword and raised the blade to her throat. "Stop it now. Or I will kill myself, and you have come here for naught!"

We gasped in horror as the woman drew the blade slightly across the white flesh of her throat, and we both felt the thirst roar to life in our throats as we smelled her blood, infinitely sweeter than anything I'd ever smelled before. I had to clamp down hard on my self control so as not to reach out and take her to drain right there. She was serious, and it would ruin Aro's plans if we let her slay herself…and worse if _I_ slew her.

"Marcus!" Didyme hissed urgently. "Go stop them!" I didn't hesitate. I charged out into the darkness.

It was a bloody chaos: the bonfire, which had died down with the passing of the night, had been churned up again by the frantic humans, some of whom had charged across it in a panic, burning themselves in their haste to get away from my brothers. There were dead everywhere, the blood pooled sticky and black in the firelight, eyes wide and staring at nothing, and the living were screaming and wailing as they fled into the dark. I saw Aro chasing a tall man, fire in his eyes, a wicked grin on his white face as he, in one swift graceful leap, overtook the man easily and bore him, screeching in panic, to the ground, and began to feed.

Caius was nowhere to be seen at first, then he appeared far across the village, casting aside a young woman casually, her body crumpling like discarded clothing in the shadows, and his eyes glowed with glee as he leapt upon another. It was like a scene out of some horrible painting, a vision of hell, but it was painted in real colors, the colors of blood and fire and night.

"Aro, stop!" I called. "Caius, please, you must stop! Now!"

They both paused in surprise, two pairs of gleaming ruby eyes finding mine. Bloodstained faces creased in shock, but then they were there before me.

"What is the meaning of this, Marcus? There's plenty for you and Didyme!" Caius complained, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of bright red across his bone-white cheek.

"Why must we stop because _you_ say so?" Aro asked haughtily, not bothering to clean his face.

"The human will kill herself if you don't stop. And then we lose her. She is not jesting; she cut her throat. Didyme is with her inside. She knew we were coming, Aro."

He blinked in surprise, finally dabbing at the blood on his chin with a corner of his dark cloak. "Really? She sees the future?"

"I have no idea, I don't think so. More that she is very aware. But she agrees to come, if we agree to not kill more of her people."

Aro sighed, a put-upon sound. "Very well, Marcus, if we must. Pity. These people have a lovely flavor."

Caius shook his head in disgust, turning without a word to stride up the hill, away from the village and disappearing into the shadows. I am sure once he was away from the light he went after more of the humans who had fled into the night.

"Show me this woman, who is so very aware," Aro muttered, brushing past me, heading for Boadicea's home. I trailed behind him, hoping that Didyme had been successful in keeping the human from further hurting herself.

The tableau was much the same as before, Didyme hovering fearfully beside Boadicea, who still held the sword to her throat. A long, dark trickle of blood threaded its way down her throat, the redness shocking against her white skin. The scent of that blood assaulted me upon entering the hut; I had to hold my breath and turn aside, something I was not accustomed to doing.

Aro's breath hissed as he gasped, his eyes going wide at the smell of the woman. "I—I have never—" he whispered, staring at Boadicea, whose own eyes showed the whites around the green irises in her fear at seeing Aro. I suppose it would be very intimidating, seeing him thus. Aro is a tall and elegant man, his aristocratic features handsome and compelling, but when he is consumed with the thirst or wants to be fearsome, he is very much so. "Such blood!"

Didyme nodded. "Aye, brother. Never before, for any of us. I wonder if it is because of her…special qualities?" She never took her eyes from Boadicea, who trembled, her eyes fixed on Aro and I. "Hurry up, Aro. The poor thing shall slit her throat from a shaking hand, not from a will to commit suicide, if you don't leave off frightening her!"

Aro nodded and closed his eyes, and he trembled visibly as he tried to master his desire for the human's blood. Then his eyes opened, flashing and determined, and he strode forward to lay his hand atop her head, at the same time yanking the sword from her numb fingers and casting it aside. "Now, let's see what you have for me," he muttered, staring down into her eyes.

She gasped and blanched, almost collapsing beneath his touch, as I am sure she felt the force of him reading her thoughts, every thought her poor human brain had ever had in her few human years. I wondered if it was painful for a mortal to be so probed; I know it is mildly uncomfortable for immortals, if only a psychic discomfort, the feeling of violation at having one's most private thoughts laid bare for his scrutiny.

"Ah," Aro said finally, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Very, very interesting." Then he withdrew his hand. "You may cease your worries, young woman, for we have ceased our slaughter of your village. Get yourself up and come with us. We have much to do, many miles to cover."

Boadicea shot a terrified glance at Didyme, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. When she went to reach for her sword, Aro shook his head and chided her. "You shan't need that any longer, child."

Didyme helped the woman to her feet and slipped her arm around her shoulders; when Boadicea shivered and turned whiter in shock at the coldness of my wife's touch, Didyme smiled ruefully. "Perhaps a cloak? And a few personal items? We forget so easily that you need those things any longer." Her face wrinkled in a brief spasm of pain. "And perhaps we should wash that throat of yours, eh?"

So a few minutes later our unlikely foursome disappeared into the night, Didyme carrying a completely terrified Boadicea in her arms between us. The village burned behind us, the smoke from the houses billowing up into the sky like the smoke from their cookfires earlier had, and the sobs of the humans who had been left behind followed us into the dark.

We had traveled inland, west and slightly south, through the hills and forests of Britannia to find the lands of the Catuvellauni tribe, among whom Alistair lived. Of course, his name wasn't Alistair then, it was some word in their language that he eventually changed to Alistair, which sounded similar and was much more easily pronounced by more modern tongues. Their tribe was a people like the Iceni, in fact they were rivals with Boadicea's tribe, and her disdain grew when she realized where we were heading.

"What do you want with them?" Boadicea asked me with surprising candor during one time when we paused to allow her to rest. She was pale and disheveled, huddled into her cloak, seeming quite a bit smaller than she'd appeared from far away. She was obviously frightened, but was doing everything she could to rein in her fear. However, her pale skin, wide eyes and skittish movements conveyed clearly what she was loathe to speak of. "They are good-for-nothing horse thieves."

Didyme laughed and patted her hand in a way that was supposed to be comforting, but it made Boadicea shiver and draw deeper into her cloak, love or no love. "We seek other like you. Special man."

Boadicea barked a little mocking laugh. "The only special men among them are their women!"

I laughed too. She would make a fine immortal, indeed, I thought.

Aro stood surveying the three of us, one eyebrow arched mockingly. "Shall I leave the woman here with you two then, since you are already so well acquainted? Can you keep her from killing herself while Caius and I fetch the boy?"

I refused to meet his eye and simply nodded. "Go, please, Aro. She shall be well with us. But let us hurry. I want to get this over and done with soon, and be home."

He nodded curtly, motioned for Caius, and they were gone into the grey morning, the fog obscuring their departure quickly. Boadicea watched them go with obviously mounting dread. "Bringing another? A boy? To—to make…immortal? Like you, too?" Her eyes slid to mine.

Oddly, she seemed to have extended her semi-trust of Didyme to include me. Perhaps because I had resisted her in the beginning, perhaps because Didyme loved me and deferred to me as her husband. Perhaps because I hadn't first seen her covered in the blood of her loved ones.

"Yes," I finally replied, not wanting to mince words. "Special. Like you."

Boadicea leaned back against the bole of the alder tree, shaking her head a bit. "Special…What's so special about me?"

I regarded her with surprise. "You don't know? I thought you did, Aro seemed satisfied with what he saw in your thoughts."

She considered for a moment, her brow furrowed with thought. "Well, I suppose I've always been able to get people to do what I want them to do. To be loyal to me, even those who don't like me. I always thought it was because I was charming!" She gave a sad little laugh, disillusioned. "And because I was naturally worthy of loyalty. My father and mother are king and queen of our people. Or were. They are dead now."

Didyme's eyes widened. "Not from—"

The human shook her head. "No, some years ago. My uncle rules in their stead, until I am old enough to take the throne…Or, I suppose, he always shall rule now, that I'm not to be with them any longer." She trailed off, her eyes shadowed and somber. She was realizing that she would never see her home again, at least not with the same eyes.

"Does it hurt? What you shall do to me?" she asked suddenly, urgently, looking at both Didyme and I. "Please, tell me, so I may prepare myself!"

Didyme sighed. "Yes, child. Will hurt much. Burning. Like fire." She begged me with her eyes to help, the lack of ability to express herself well was frustrating, though she seemed to be learning more and more as she listened to Boadicea.

I cleared my throat needlessly, giving myself a moment to think. "Yes, Boadicea. It will hurt very much. For three days, more or less, you will feel like you are being burned alive, as your mortal body dies and the new one is born inside you."

Her green eyes sparkled with fear, then hardened with resolve. "Three days." She looked down at her hands, as if memorizing them. "I can do that for three days. I am strong. I am a warrior princess of my people." She held out her arm and pushed back the cloak, revealing a long and intricate tattoo in dark blue twining around her upper arm. "This was agonizing, but I never shed a tear during the whole process, which took a week of daily sessions that lasted for hours at a time."

Didyme and I exchanged an amused glance. There was no need to argue with her: the pain of the transformation would speak for itself. Let her think what she would. There was no way to prepare yourself fully for such intense and consuming pain.

After a while, Boadicea's bright head slumped forward and her body relaxed into sleep. The night of terror and travel had exhausted her, strong as she was, and we let her sleep. It would be one of the last times she would be able to dream, and I wished her good ones. Didyme drew closer, sitting down next to me, resting her head against my shoulder and slipping her arm around my waist as she watched the girl sleep.

"What do you think of this job we are doing, my love? Is it well?"

I sighed and stroked her hair. "I don't know, darling. I don't know." And I held her against me and we watched the sleeping mortal girl, and both of us wondered at our part in Aro's game.

They returned after nightfall, Caius and Aro bearing the boy between them. He was tall and lanky, his long dark hair falling in his saturnine face, which was white and lined with fear. They cast him to the ground near Boadicea, who woke with a start and pulled back with a surprised cry.

The boy, Alistair, looked up at Didyme and I with eyes full of terror. He was perhaps eighteen and looked as if he'd led a life of ease, his body untested by the hunt or war, his skin smooth and unscarred, something unusual for humans during those years, who had to struggle for everything they had.

"Almost got away from us, little maggot," Caius growled, aiming a kick at the boy's side; Alistair jumped aside just in time, almost rolling into Boadicea, who drew away with a disgusted look. I was taken aback by that: I'd never seen anyone but an immortal evade one of us before. It was as if the boy knew what was going to happen.

Aro's lip twisted in scorn. "Yes, I was quite right about his gift. He's some kind of tracker. He finds things. Or, in the way it usually is expressed for him, he knows what he wants to avoid…and so goes in the opposite direction. Little coward."

Didyme giggled at the idea of her brother and Caius chasing this skinny little mortal and being vexed by him; she peered at the boy curiously. "What an inconsequential little thing you are, child," she said quietly, catching his eye, and I felt that warm whisper of love as she directed her gift at him.

His face relaxed visibly, his eyes going heavy-lidded as he gazed, star-struck into Didyme's face. He didn't understand her words, spoken in Greek, but he obviously knew she was no threat to him. I shook my head in disgust: I really must try to figure some other way to bind these newlings to us. I was getting quite tired of all the males developing hopeless crushes on my wife.

She looked up at Aro and smiled. "He's going to be easy to keep around, I think. Perhaps he and Boadicea…?"

Aro rolled his eyes. "Stop being a matchmaker, sister. And I seriously doubt that this female would have any interest in this male. They seem polar opposites, if I've ever seen them."

It was true: Boadicea was easily twice Alistair's size, and the human woman was regarding Alistair with the gaze of a woman beholding some truly disgusting species of slimy insect. Where she was all fire and life, he was pale and retiring and dark. He hadn't spoken a word yet.

"Do they speak the same language?" Didyme asked me, then shook her head at her own silliness and turned to Boadicea and asked her the same question in her tongue. Boadicea grimaced and made a motion that indicated "somewhat." So Didyme turned to Alistair again, reaching out to tip the young man's face to look up into hers. "Be calm. Everything will be good."

He swallowed convulsively, his adam's-apple bobbing in his skinny throat as he nodded quickly. He understood her. When Didyme let him go he looked away and slumped down, leaning against another tree and appeared to try to go to sleep. I was nonplussed: no screaming or protesting. Simply hopeless acceptance.

Boadicea snorted derisively. "Catuvellauni coward. I told you their woman are the best among them."

Alistair opened one eye and glared at her, but when she returned his gaze steadily and fiercely he quickly closed the eye again and hunkered down, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"So, now what, Aro?" I asked, standing and brushing off my tunic and leggings. I'd been sitting in the grass with Didyme while we waited for them to return. "The humans need a bit of rest before we travel, I think. And food, if they're not going to starve before we turn them."

Aro exhaled in frustration. "Complications. Always complications." He looked down at the humans for a moment, considering. "So find them something to eat, Marcus, since you seem so attuned to their needs."

Didyme touched my hand. "Yes, perhaps it should be you, my love. I should stay with them."

I managed to find them some food (robbing a nearby farm of some bread, cheese, and meat—disgusting stuff that it was), which both humans seemed grateful for when I returned. Then, at a look from Aro, Didyme bundled up Boadicea into her arms, casting a meaningful look my way, then at Alistair, who still huddled against his tree.

"Me?" I looked down at the miserable human and didn't exactly fancy picking him up. He smelled wonderful, of course, which wasn't going to make things comfortable to me, since it had been a few days since my last feeding, but besides…I just didn't want to carry him.

"Yes, you! I really do not think Aro or Caius will volunteer to do it, Marcus! And I don't trust them anyway!" She thrust out her chin in that obstinate look she got when she wanted something and was determined to get it. I, being well acquainted with that look, gave in gracefully. I awkwardly hefted the skinny boy, giving him a warning look when he opened his mouth to protest; that shut him up quickly, and I slung him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ignoring Caius's snigger in the background.

The things I do for my wife…

Aro, trying to hide a smile, pointed eastward. "We need to head for the coast and steal a boat. After all, we can't exactly swim the Channel carrying these bundles of joy over our heads, could we?"

I shot Aro a withering glance, imagining myself trying to swim with this sopping, miserable boy held aloft. Aro knew I hated swimming. And there would be no enjoyable mid-swim diversion with Didyme, if she was likewise burdened with Boadicea.

So we headed for the coast, and Caius found a boat that would serve. I refrained from asking what happened to the boat's owner: Caius's eyes looked especially red, and he seemed satiated when he returned. I began worrying about Didyme and I, we needed to feed as well, and far from our charges. They smelled too good for me to put them in danger while in the grips of the bloodlust.

We crossed the Channel easily; at one point, Caius leapt into the water and pulled it, when we weren't making good enough time to suit Aro's purposes…and when we realized Alistair wasn't a mortal accustomed to the movement of the ocean. The second time Alistair leaned over the edge and vomited up that perfectly decent but perfectly revolting food I'd found him I had to restrain myself from leaping into the water as well, if only to get away from him.

When we grounded on the coast of Gaul I shoved Alistair inelegantly over the side into the sand, where he gasped like a fish out of water for a moment, thanking the gods in his language for allowing him to survive. Didyme made a disapproving clucking noise at me and sat Boadicea down much more gracefully; the girl staggered a bit at first but found her bearings quickly. Again, I knew she'd make a fine immortal. Alistair? I doubted it. But Aro had decided.

We traveled inland, into the thick woods once more, south and east. The city which would come to be known as Cenabum (and, eventually Orleans) was our target, the stronghold of the Carnutes tribe. Our third and final candidate, Augustin, was last known to have lived there.

Here we ran into a problem of logistics, because we had the two humans to look after, and this town was substantially larger than the two previous human settlements had been. It would take a good deal more looking to find the human we sought among the many, and there was no telling whether he was still there or not. Humans were nomadic too, especially in those old times, before they knew the pull of a great nation or a sense of pride in anything but the tribe of their birth.

It struck Didyme first, of course, clever girl. "Why not use Alistair?"

Aro stared at her dumbly for a moment, his mouth half-opened to give a sarcastic retort, but he couldn't argue with her. Alistair looked up, eyes wild, hearing his name on my wife's tongue, seeming like he might bolt. Caius chuckled, and it was my turn to hide a smile at Aro's expense. "You know, that might just work," Aro murmured quietly, his eyes flickering to Alistair, who turned pale and began to tremble at his scrutiny.

"Human, I seek a mortal, his name is Augustin. He is known as one who sees things, sees the future. He was last here in this city. Can you help us find him, with your talent? It would behoove you to cooperate, if you can." Aro put his hands on Alistair's shoulders, inducing further trembling in the boy, and gave him a gentle shake, which seemed to rattle his teeth. "Will you help us?"

Alistair licked his lips and considered, his eyes slipping halfway closed as if lost in thought. "Y-yes," he finally replied, his voice rough and hesitant. "I-I think so. I think I feel him. That way." He raised a shaking finger and pointed toward the west. "It…it gets stronger the closer we are."

Aro's eyes flamed with approval and he smiled, which didn't seem to help improve Alistair's composure at all. In fact, it seemed to worsen it. "Excellent, boy. Lead us. Now." He motioned to Caius to follow him then made a shooing gesture at Alistair. "Go."

"And us, Aro?" Didyme asked quietly, her hand on Boadicea's shoulder. "Stay here and wait for you?"

"Yes," he called back over his should. "Wait. We shall return shortly, I hope."

It turned out that finding a man who can see the future makes things more interesting, especially when the pursuers are aided by someone who can find what it is he seeks. It made for a very frustrating and lengthy chase, apparently, because when Aro and Caius returned with Augustin, they were in an even worse humor than they'd been with Alistair. Alistair, in turn, seemed almost elated: he had been of service, and he'd been replaced in the eyes of Aro as being the most irritating member of the human faction of our party.

Augustin was much like Alistair in his build, tall and slender, but more muscular. His hair was dark and lightly curling as it hung to his shoulders, and he had a very open and honest face, with a wide and generous mouth that seemed given to smiling, and large dark eyes that seemed wise beyond his years but merry. He was afraid, he was frustrated and defeated, but he didn't wilt like Alistair had at the realization that he had come to this final juncture of his mortality. I liked him immediately.

Aro tossed him to the ground before me, as if giving him to me. "Watch over this one as well, Marcus. You seem well suited to being a mortal nursemaid."

Augustin also smelled exceptional, and he set my throat afire.

"Aro, I need to feed. Soon. These three are too tempting," I growled out of the corner of my mouth, while Didyme reached out to help the young man to his feet and began plying him with her gift.

The boy lifted his eyes to meet mine, and I felt something pass between us: he knew me, even though he'd never seen me before. I realized what Aro had said about him was true; he did _see_ things. And he'd seen me, and Didyme, and he wasn't afraid of us. His dark eyes grew huge and sad as he looked at me first, and even more so when he looked at Didyme; tears actually appeared at the corners of them, caught in his long and tangled lashes. But they weren't tears of fear. He was sad. For us. For some reason.

I was seized with the desire to ask him what he had seen, but before I could, Aro swooped down and grabbed the boy up again. "Never mind, then, Marcus. I'll watch this one. You go feed. I can't chance you hurting these." I glanced up at my brother, startled at his sudden change of heart, and filed that away in the back of my mind. I would get the boy alone at some point, and I would find out what he had seen, what had made him so sad.

Didyme's strong little hand found mine. "Come love, let's both go. I think these two can handle the humans for a while. Let's go."

So we melted into the forest and then down into Cenabum, to slake our thirst as the evening deepened into mysterious shadows. As I hunted I let my mind lose the tight focus it had been wound into for so many days now, meeting the needs of my body with the automatic efficiency of a hunter born and bred.

There were three humans and four immortals. Surprisingly, Aro carried Augustin: he had not changed his mind in his decision to watch over that particular mortal. I never got a single opportunity to speak to him by myself, much to my frustration, because Aro almost jealously guarded Augustin's time. So I was, unfortunately, left to deal with Alistair myself, and Didyme with Boadicea, and lucky Caius could run unencumbered and smug.

Despite our burdens, we made good time back to Volterra. Sulpicia and Athenodora welcomed us back joyfully, and to our relief Aro seemed very glad to see his wife again. Perhaps he'd taken my words on the beach at Calais to heart. Without any real consideration for anyone else, Caius and Aro both disappeared into their respective chambers with their respective wives, leaving Didyme and I staring at each other helplessly and knowing we were to be in charge of the humans. This was to become a precedent in the coming years, one which Aro came to regret…as did I. Bitterly. But for very different reasons.

Knowing we had only a small window of time before they were changed and were thence extremely difficult to deal with, we put the humans in comfortable but completely closed quarters, leaving the slaves to guard the doors and serve them their meals for a while, and Didyme and I retired to our own chambers for some much-needed time alone.

We made love for two days straight. On the morning of the third day, knowing we needed to emerge from our warm and loving cocoon, we lay tangled together in our bed and watched the sun rise. I held Didyme in my arms and counted the breaths she took, and she mine: it was something we did sometimes when we were alone. Each breath is precious, even when it is not necessary anymore. I reveled in each inhalation of her scent, and she mine.

"Love, what do you think of Augustin?" Didyme asked me, her voice sounding strange after such a long period of silence, broken only by the murmurings and whispers and sighs of lovemaking.

I thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know." I thought back to the young man's face: those large dark eyes so wide and full of recognition and sadness. "But it bothers me, that Aro won't let me near him. It's…it's as if he knows something bad, something he doesn't want Augustin to tell me."

Didyme sucked in a surprised breath. "Really?" She rolled toward me, pillowing her arms, which rested on my chest. "What on earth could Aro want to keep from us?"

I ran my fingers through her disordered golden curls. "I don't know," I repeated. "The whole thing is baffling. But you know how protective Aro is of his secrets, love. It could be something that has nothing to do with us."

"Perhaps." She traced the line of my lips with the tip of her finger; I smiled and trapped her hand against my mouth with mine, kissing it. "Well, we could always go ask him now, you know. Before Aro comes out of his rooms. Before they're changed."

I was intrigued by the idea, but it was difficult to force myself to let her go. That bed had become the axis of the universe, the center of my world, and we were the only players on life's stage. I loathed to open the curtains and allow anyone else onto that stage. But I was also wildly curious about the matter, in an urgent and unusual way.

We dressed quickly, stealing quietly from our rooms to the humans' quarters. The slaves guarding the door gave way immediately, bowing low and parting before us; I pushed the door open, searching for Augustin.

But he wasn't there.

Alistair sat on his bed, disconsolate and alone, hardly daring to meet my eyes. The other bed was empty, seemed to have never been slept in. "He's not here, lord. The other, the one with the dark hair, came and took him yesterday morning," he said quietly to no one.

I hissed in frustration. What was going on? Why had Aro taken Augustin? Where was he now? Didyme clutched my arm and her huge eyes and slack mouth told me she was also shocked.

I went to look for Sulpicia or Aro, and they weren't there. The slaves cleaning their chamber told me they had left the morning before in a hurry, and they hadn't seen them since.

Caius and Athenodora were still locked in their rooms, so I didn't bother to even knock. Whatever this was, it was strictly Aro's plan.

We waited the rest of the day, through the night and well into the next day. When Aro finally did appear, Augustin was with him, a newborn, his eyes blood red and hungry, and although he did glance at me for a moment, I knew he was completely my brother's creature. I knew I couldn't get anything from him. Aro smiled and refused to meet my eye, patting Augustin warmly on the shoulder and trumpeting about what a wonderful team they made, he and Augustin: one to plan the future, and the other to see it happening.

For the first time in the centuries I had spent with Aro, my misgivings about his secretive nature and his thirst for power bloomed into true suspicion. Something was afoot. Something was wrong. When Aro announced that he and Augustin were leaving immediately to begin their survey of likely humans again, I wasn't surprised. Even Caius didn't go. They left without fanfare when I was out hunting with Didyme. Poor Sulpicia, leaning sadly against the garden gate, told me of their departure.

"He hardly said goodbye," she murmured softly, her lips pursed with grief. "I thought…I thought things might be different this time. But…he seemed so eager to go."

I put my arm around her slight shoulders and pulled her against me, Didyme on the other side putting her arm around Sulpicia's waist. No matter the woman's aristocratic bearing, no matter that she believed herself better than everyone else, her pain was evident. The man she loved had left her with barely a goodbye. As if glad to be rid of her. It hurt.

"Did he tell you anything?" Didyme asked carefully, tucking a strand of the other woman's white blonde hair behind her ear. "Anything at all?"

Sulpicia frowned. "Only that they were going hunting. But not for blood. For candidates." She turned and looked at me. "And he did say, very clearly, that you and Didyme are to change the others and teach them properly."

I sighed. "Of course."

Then the pride, the very backbone of the woman, asserted itself, and all the displays of weakness and softness disappeared. "Well, get to it then, Marcus. I'm not wasting more time here." She brushed her hair back and twitched at her gown needlessly, then left us, heading toward her chambers. The rooms she shared with Aro. When he was there.

"I bet you she would weep behind closed doors, if she could." Didyme's hand found mine, her eyes hard as she watched Sulpicia leave, her back ramrod-straight. "Poor thing."

I grunted. "Yes, poor thing," I drawled dryly.

"So, I suppose we must see to Boadicea and Alistair then."

"I suppose."

"I call Boadicea."

"Damn you. Why? Why must I get the whiny little git?"

"Because you're you, my darling. And because I won't have your lips at on another woman again."

"As if _I _have ever given you cause for jealousy. What cause have you to be jealous? _I'm_ not the one who makes every man love her from the first moment they see her!"

"I'd certainly hope you're not a _her_. That would complicate things between us a bit, my love."

"Tease."

"Scoundrel."

So we went in to change them. And for a long time we were caught up in the daily grind of caring for the newborns, for teaching and training them. We forgot, for the moment, our fears of Aro's strangeness and Augustin's sadness. Much to our chagrin, we let the hours and days and months and years slip by.


End file.
